


Started Out As Strangers

by EndoratheWitch



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: AU, Arranged Marriage, Dragonflies, F/M, Falling In Love, Fighting, Oral Sex, Sex, Sickness, fairies and goblins, marriage talk, wolf spiders
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 20:52:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 40,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5063668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndoratheWitch/pseuds/EndoratheWitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Married as children, Bog and Marianne do not meet again until Marianne seeks an annulment</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Love Denied

Bog did not remember much about his marriage. He had been very young and the fairy princess even younger. All he remembered was the stuffy ceremony, his father standing next to the fairy king and queen. His mother smiling and the tiny fairy princess with huge, amber eyes. But that was all. During the years since, his father had passed and the fairy queen had died as well. He never saw the fairy princess again and, after a while, the marriage was forgotten except on a dusty document kept on a shelf in some clerk's office. 

Then one day, he had fallen in love. His mother had informed him that he was already married, but that was an easy problem to overcome. What really worried him was winning the love of the goblin woman he cherished. He sought out the Sugar Plum fairy and secured a potion. He would simply seek an annulment once he had won her heart and he would have his happy ending. 

But the potion had not worked, and his heart had broken. He closed himself off, the annulment forgotten, love pushed away and he settled to live his days alone in darkness, denying love for he was unlovable. And so he resigned himself from any affairs of the heart until one day a letter arrived from the summer fields, from the fairy princess, his wife, asking for an annulment. 

Bog stared at the letter in its elegant hand on its soft and equally elegant paper. Apparently the fairy princess was in love and wanted to marry some knight. So she wanted to end her marriage to Bog. He narrowed his eyes and a slight curl graced his lips as he glared at the letter, his claws slowly pressing into the paper until it tore in his grip. Bog's mother, Griselda was in the throne room watching her son. She just had a feeling when the letter arrived what it might be about and so she had tagged along after the message was delivered. Griselda had heard rumors about the eldest fairy princess being engaged. She had said nothing to her son, but knew at some point a dissolution of the arranged marriage might come up. When the message arrived from the fairy kingdom, she was fairly sure what it was about. Judging by her son's face she was correct—it was from his wife. 

Bog snarled and wadded the paper, throwing it across the room before he settled down to glare at nothing, grinding his teeth. 

“Bog, dear?” Griselda came over to her son and placed a hand on his arm. 

His voice full of venom, Bog snarled, “It seems my wife wants to annul our marriage so that she can pursue another with some fairy.” 

“So what are you going to do?” Griselda patted her son's hand as he clawed at his throne. His claws on the bone throne made a sound that would have made a weaker person cringe. 

“Maybe I should pay my wife a visit. See this fool she wants to marry. Maybe let her know that love is poisonous. It destroys order and rots the soul.” 

“I think that is an excellent idea!” 

Bog jumped a little bit at his mother's exclamation. 

Griselda had thought the young fairy princess, Marianne, had been perfect for her son all those years ago when she and the fairy queen had decided that a allegiance between their kingdoms needed the marriage of their children, and though she had not seen the young princess since that day, she just knew deep in her heart this had been a perfect match and it still was. Now, just to get these two together so they could see it. This might be the perfect situation. Sure, the princess wanted to marry someone else, but Griselda knew things could change. 

Marianne received a note while in her bedroom. Her room was filled with white and yellow flowers as if the flower fields themselves had sprung to life in her room. She was gazing at her wedding dress that hung on the dress form in front of her, letting her fingers glide over the silken material with a soft, dreamy smile on her face. Her handmaidens moved around it, making little adjustments as she grinned looking onward. She was so excited to wear it, to walk down the aisle and take Roland's hand. She was to be married as soon as she obtained the annulment, then all her dreams would come true. She would finally have her king. She did a little twirl of happiness, singing merrily to herself when a knock sounded on her door. A fairy messenger brought her the envelope not ten minutes ago as she turned the envelope over examining it. The paper was rough, not like fairy stationary, which was as soft as flower petals. Her eyes went wide when she saw it was from the Bog King, her husband, written in a strange, but elegant script. 

She didn't remember much about him, just that he had been very tall and thin. But one aspect that she had dreamt about for years, were his blue eyes. After all this time she wasn't sure if that aspect of his features had been real or not, but in her dreams he had the bluest, purist eyes, scared and kind as he had stared down at her looking for all the world as if he wanted to bolt. 

She shook herself as she read the note. He was coming here! Marianne blinked in surprise. She really had not expected him to come to see her. What was she going to do? She wondered what he looked like now? What was she going to tell Roland!? That's it, she should go talk to Roland! He would know how to handle this. She folded the letter and slipped it into her dress pocket and took off to find her intended. 

Marianne was gliding over the fields, a smile graced her lips as she thought that maybe the Bog King just wanted to stay for the wedding? Maybe that was why he was coming here to make the annulment official? That would be nice! They could talk about their kingdoms, maybe having more between them than an annulled marriage. Open trade! Freer travel between fairy and goblin lands! She giggled happily at the thought of what the Bog King coming to her wedding could mean for them both. 

Marianne's smile radiated her happiness as she swooped and glided, dragging the tips of her fingers over the tops of flowers, her heart filled with joy and love as she thought about Roland. She suddenly stopped midair, her eyes went wide, her wings moved slowly in shock, her whole body had gone cold. She could see Roland and his squirrel mount, but what stopped her in her tracks was the sight of Roland, not just embracing, but kissing a fairy maid. And not just kissing, but passionately kissing each other as they lay on a blanket together under the daffodils. She felt her whole body go rigid and her heart seemed to audibly crack, then go hollow and cold. She stared for a moment more, just as things were getting heated between Roland and his partner, before she flipped around quickly with a sob. She flew back to the castle as swiftly as her wings would carry her. 

Marianne gave no thought to sending a note back to tell her “husband” not to come, that she didn't need the annulment. She could not think clearly at first; her whole world had come down around her. She canceled the wedding and barricaded herself in her room for the next few days. Her heart broken so thoroughly by Roland that for a few days no other thoughts occurred to her except to stay away from everyone. Finally, when she had started to think again, she started to heal. She began concentrating on her training when she was alone. She found her mother's sword and she started to focus her pain into becoming stronger, into not needing anyone to love her or to love in return. Marianne pushed thoughts of Roland away, using her pain. She forgot her “husband” was coming in her need to forget about her broken heart. 

It was a week later that the announcement came letting them know that the Bog King would be arriving tomorrow. Dawn and Marianne were out in the fields with Sunny. Sunny and Dawn were watching her sister as she swung her sword, blindfolded. Around her, her handmaidens ducked and weaved, throwing the occasional berry at her, which she either dodged or sliced cleanly in half. 

“Marianne!!! What are you going to do? The Bog King will be here tomorrow!! Your husband!!!” Dawn was nearly vibrating with nerves as she yelled at her sister. 

Marianne pulled her blindfold down to look at her sister and Sunny. 

“Nothing. I am going to do nothing. I don't love him, he doesn't love me. We don't even know each other. This was about an annulment which I don't need now. So who cares? We can meet again and then go back to the way things were before.” 

Dawn flew around her sister, aggravated “But what if he wants you to go back with him?” 

Marianne snorted as she pushed her blindfold back into place. “Now, why on earth would he want that?” 

Dawn groaned impatiently. “Because you're his wife!” 

Marianne pulled off her blindfold completely. “Maybe I should just go back with him. Roland won't leave me alone and I am tired of everyone staring at me like I am some sort of freak. Maybe, just maybe I should go be his wife.” 

Dawn gasped in shock, covering her mouth. “Marianne! You don't mean that!” 

A few days later, messengers had run ahead announcing that the Bog King would be at the fairy castle within the hour. The spring dance was to be that night, which was fine by Marianne. She didn't want to go, but going on the arm of her “husband” would at least stop everyone talking about her break up with Roland. 

Near the edges of the fields, on his way to the castle, Roland thought more about his plan to win back Marianne. Roland had paid absolutely no attention to the fact that the Bog King, Marianne's husband, was coming to the palace. All he had been focused on since the day Marianne had caught him was how to win her back. Any thoughts of her annulment, or the fact that she was actually married to another king, had completely flown from his mind in his single minded quest to get her back. He wanted, no, needed to be king and Marianne was the key to all his dreams. 

He could not believe he had fumbled it so close to the wedding, but he would win her back. As far as he was concerned there was no question about it. It would be easy, just like everything else in Roland's life had been. The spring ball would be the perfect place to ply his charms on her. And if that didn't work, well there was always the kidnapping he had in mind, force her to marry him by using the love potion he had managed to get a hold of when he first started pursuing Marianne. He had gotten the potion from the Sugar Plum fairy ages ago before she had gotten herself imprisoned. Roland grinned to himself as he remembered how Marianne had fallen for him easily and thus he did not need to use it, but now... 

Bog arrived at the fairy castle in a foul mood. He hated traveling out of the Dark Forest, he hated all the pomp required of a traveling king. Truth be told, he had been in a foul mood for ages, but seeing all the fairies flitting about and acting scared or just plain silly made him angry to the point that knocking one out of the air with his staff seemed like a great idea. But he forced himself not to appear foul tempered. He was here to see his “wife” and he was determined to be civil. Actually, now that he was here he was starting to question his reasons for showing up. He should have simply given her an annulment and left it at that. But for some reason here he was waiting outside the castle gates as he was being announced. 

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, he walked in with his entourage of goblins and his mother. Bog was led to the throne room and there sitting on the throne was the fairy king and his two daughters, one on either side of the aging monarch. Oddly, Bog knew which of the young women was his wife immediately His eyes were instantly drawn to her—it was the purple wings. Until that moment, he had not realized he remembered them from their wedding, but as soon as he laid eyes on her, he knew it was Marianne. She stood beside her father, her purple wings pooled behind her, wearing a decidedly unprincess-like outfit. Bog suddenly found his ire dying down at the sight of her. She was magnificent. Her amber eyes flashed as they landed on him, but there was a gentle shift from a stern set to her face, to a slight relaxing of her features as they stared at each other. The fairy king stood and Bog's attention was forced back to the business at hand. King Dagda spread his arms. “I welcome you to my kingdom.” For a moment he stumbled over the words as he added, “Bog King and my son-in-law.” 

Bog would have snarled at the King, given the clear difficulty he had in saying the last bit, but he decided to be civil, especially seeing Marianne, his wife standing there. He bowed to the king and then to each of the princesses. “I have come to see my wife.” He somehow manged to keep his voice clear, keeping his accent from becoming too overpowering since he was suddenly nervous. Keeping his accent under control when he was tense or angry was something he was constantly working at. Dagda started to say something else, but Marianne stepped forward with a smile thinking that she should disfuse a situation before it started. 

“Perhaps my husband would like to walk with me?” 

Bog looked around confused, not sure how he ought to respond. He didn't actually think that she would want to talk to him or well...he didn't think at all really. His plan to come to the fairy kingdom had not really developed beyond getting in the door. Glancing at his mother for help, Bog gave her a pleading look, but she only smiled, motioning him to say something. So he stuttered, “Aah, y-yes?” Marianne stepped down, her hand extended to him. Bog took her tiny hand very gently with his long, clawed fingers, then laid her hand on his arm. They managed to walk out of the throne room without any mishaps. Bog shot a glance over his shoulder to see his mother grinning, King Dagda and his other daughter looking surprised. 

Marianne led Bog out to the gardens that surrounded the castle, her voice low as she said, “I don't really remember you much.” 

Bog, his temper forgotten, blushed and muttered, “I remembered you a little bit.” 

Marianne laughed. “I remember you being so tall, which I see hasn't changed.” 

Bog looked embarrassed as they walked. 

“So you need an annulment?” he growled it out, not looking at her as they walked side by side, his staff making a dull thud on the ground.. 

Marianne didn't say anything for a few moments, her fingers on his arm tensing before she said softly, “I am not going to marry someone else.” 

Bog stopped walking with her and turned around to look at her in surprise as she dropped her hand from his arm. “Why not?” 

Marianne looked down at her hands in front of her, starting to fiddle with her fingers, then sighed. “I really don't feel like talking about it, but I no longer need to annul our marriage, unless you are seeking it.” 

Bog snorted, turning to face away from her. “I don't believe in true love and I have no intention of getting married again. I am fine staying married for our political alliance if you are, princess.” 

“I will never marry for love, so staying married for our kingdoms is fine by me.” 

They put their hands out to each other and shook in agreement to keep their loveless marriage together. But as they looked at each other, neither let go right away. After a very long moment they simply stood there staring at each other until Marianne heard Dawn calling for her. She pulled her hand away slowly, her fingers tracing the back of his as she pulled her hand away. They both looked down embarrassed. She smiled at him and sighed as if this part was a chore for her. “Ah, the spring ball is tonight. Would you come with me?” 

Bog looked a mildly uncomfortable, but nodded. “Alright, if you wish, but are you sure you wish to be on the arm of your hideous husband?” Marianne placed her hand back on his arm as they started to walk back. “I would like that and you are not hideous.” She smiled at him, looking him in the eye. “Thank you, Bog King.” 

Bog cleared his throat, looking clearly nervous as he murmured softly. “Bog. You can call me Bog.” 

Roland was pacing his rooms in the castle, waiting until the dance was to start. Roland's plan that night was to charm Marianne back into his arms, but he now heard that the Bog King was going to be there. He snarled to himself. How could any of this had happened? To HIM? Damn it! But he still had the potion, which he had conned out of Sugar Plum and the kidnapping plan...it would be fine. If he could just get close enough to Marianne, but if not he had his other plans in place. He had loyal men who were dedicated to Roland's vision of being king. As for the Bog King, he probably would not really care. After all, Roland thought, he was a goblin, how intelligent could he be? Perhaps if he saw the way the wind was blowing, the Bog King would join Roland's side in becoming king. That would make everything simpler, but if not, well, perhaps the Bog King would have an accident and Roland could become king of two kingdoms? Then Roland would have everything he had ever wanted and then he would have the power to take more. His smile was slow and calculating, the thought of power made his eyes glimmer.


	2. First Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That night at the Spring Ball...

That night Marianne looked at herself in her mirror, turning one way and then the other, checking the fit and fall of the dress. She had not originally planned on attending the spring ball, but now with her husband here it seemed fitting to wear a dress. She had just stopped looking at the dress to lean in close to the mirror and fix her hair. She made a face at herself, running her fingers through her hair, then down her gown when her door was flung open by an overly excited Dawn, who then proceeded to fly into her sister's room, nearly tackling her in the process. “Marianne, Marianne, Marianne!!! I am so excited!!!” 

Marianne chuckled, grabbing her sister gently by the shoulders to pull her back. “Slow down there! I am so glad you're excited. Why are you excited?” 

Dawn landed with a smile. “Bog seems nice, a bit stiff, but nice. I talked to him before coming here. I got him to agree to dance with me at least once!” 

Marianne looked impressed. “How did you manage that? He doesn't seem like the dancing type.” 

Dawn giggled. “I just kept bugging him until he caved in. I figured since he's my brother-in-law that he should dance with me! He is actually easy. He acts tough, but I think he is a big softy. He had the funniest look on his face!” 

Dawn finally stopped for a moment and frowned looking at her sister “Wow! You actually look nice!” 

Marianne whacked her sister on the shoulder. “Hey! You act like that's a surprise!” 

Dawn giggled and leapt away. “The music's starting! You better hurry and get your king!” 

Marianne stuck her tongue out at her sister, but Dawn was right. She needed to find Bog. 

Back in the apartments set aside for him, Bog was extremely nervous and he hated it. His mother had already left for the main hall, leaving Bog alone with his thoughts. Marianne had been nothing but polite to him—which was nice—but he also found her behavior a bit odd. Why be nice to him? He was this hideous monster that she was unwillingly attached to yet she treated him, well, like a friend. He decided he would be polite in return no matter how uncomfortable he was and he hated to admit it, but it felt good to have someone to be nice to. Even the youngest princess, Dawn, had been nice. The fact that the youngest princess had managed to cajole him into a dance made him want to groan loudly. Oddly, he found that he didn't want to disappoint the little princess and thinking of her bright face and huge eyes made him chuckle a bit. He didn't think he had ever met anyone as cheerful or as determined as the youngest sister... 

Marianne made her way through the halls of the palace to the guest wing. She approached Bog's door, stopping for a moment to take a deep breath before she knocked. Her heart sped up in surprise when he opened the door himself. Bog was doing his best to hide how nervous he was from her, his face looking gruff and grumpy. He stood still for a moment just looking at her. He knew he was staring, so he immediately stepped out into the hall trying to cover his staring not wanting to look so foolish. But she was gorgeous! His intense physical attraction surprised him. She wasn't even a goblin! 

Marianne looked up as Bog stepped out. He had done nothing to alter his appearance for the ball, but being this close to him again, he looked so nervous and slightly awkward. She found it endearing that someone as intimidating as he could be so awkward. He was holding his staff defensively in front of him and kept fidgeting with his staff. He looked just a bit lost and she found him suddenly, immensely charming. She put her hand on his forearm with a smile. Her touch calmed him a little. He finally met her eyes to return her smile, his blue eyes trusting her, before they both headed into the ballroom. Bog found himself having trouble speaking as they walked side by side. She was beautiful, walking beside him as she held his arm. Bog stopped moving just before they walked into the ballroom. Marianne smiled and whispered. “Don't worry. You're with me.” Bog glanced sideways at her and grinned. “Thank you.” She shrugged, her cheeks turning a deep crimson, but then they were walking into the ballroom together. 

She felt Bog tense beside her as a slight hush filled the area for a moment as Bog walked in with his wife on his arm for the first time since their marriage. Bog's feelings were a mix between embarrassment, fear, and shock that this lovely creature on his arm was not only his wife, but she was willing to be seen with him in public. Everyone stared at them. Marianne could feel just a slight tremble in Bog's arm. She glanced up at his face to see that he was scowling, a hint of his fangs bared. She quickly stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. He nearly jumped out of his skin, turning to stare down at her, his eyes so comically wide as he hissed in surprise, “What?” that it took an great effort of will not to laugh. She grinned at him, then proceeded to ignore everyone as they moved through the ballroom over to the thrones. After a few seconds, the crowd started to talk again, and the music resumed. 

The dance was going well. Bog and Marianne stood off to the side talking quietly with each other. Bog was still very tense. He noticed every stare or how people would move in wide circles around them. It didn't really hurt him, or at least that was what he told himself, but it bothered him for Marianne's sake. Bog told Marianne that she did not have to stay with him. It was not her responsibility to entertain him, but she only smiled and said she was perfectly happy speaking with him. That she actually preferred being with him than mingling. Later in the evening, Dawn grabbed Bog's free hand. “Come on, Boggy. You promised me a dance!” 

He groaned under his breath. “Bog King.” But with a pleading glance at Marianne, he let himself be dragged out onto the dance floor by a rather hyper blonde fairy. Marianne was watching the two of them, stifling a laugh, as Dawn pretty much danced around him. Bog stood there holding his staff, looking unsure of what to do with himself. He would also give Dawn a look that said he thought there might be something wrong with the little princess. He shot Marianne look of confusion, but she only grinned and waved at him. Marianne was focused on her sister and Bog, so she did not see Roland enter the ballroom behind her. 

Roland grinned brightly when he saw Marianne was by herself. Finally, the perfect chance. He laid a hand on his hip and felt the potion hidden there as he made his way over to where she was watching that creature and her sister. He shuddered a bit. He still could not believe that she was married to that cockroach. Plus, she was smiling at it!! 

“Hey, Buttercup.” Roland was ready with his charming smile and a flip of his hair, two aspects of himself that never failed to win him what he wanted. 

Marianne turned slowly at the grating sound of Roland's voice, her eyes narrowed. 

“Roland,” she said with acid in her tone. “What are you doing here?” 

He grinned at her with a shrug, reaching up to twirl a lock of his shiny, golden hair. 

“Just thought maybe we could talk, have a dance, see about mending some fences. You know, get back on track with our wedding.” 

Marianne snarled, “Roland, go away.” 

Roland grabbed Marianne's arm, neither of them noticing that Bog was walking toward them. When Roland pulled at Marianne, Bog growled deep in his chest as he walked up. “Let her go.” 

Roland turned to face Bog; his green eyes flashed with venom for just a moment. “Look, bug, I am trying to talk to my fiancee!” 

Bog looked startled and then glanced at Marianne, pointing with his thumb. “That's the guy?” 

Marianne huffed and tried to yank her arm free. “Roland, you are not fiance! You are not anything to me!” She tried to move closer to Bog but Roland was still holding onto her. “The Bog King is my HUSBAND, so go away.” 

Roland would not let go of her, which caused Bog to snarl again. 

“Look ya prick, you have three seconds to let her go or I will make you let go.” 

Roland ignored him and tried to pull out the potion and pull Marianne closer to him. Bog didn't see the love potion, all he saw was that Roland was not letting Marianne go. 

Marianne was forming a fist, her eyes flashing with anger and pain, but before she could strike Roland, Bog hit the big, blonde fairy under the jaw with his own powerful fist. Everyone in the ballroom seemed to gasp at the same time that Bog snapped Roland's head back, the fairy's teeth hitting with a satisfying snap, clearly audible to everyone. Roland stumbled backwards and landed on his rear, grabbing his face. The look of complete shock that covered his face would have been hilarious, but it quickly turned into a sneer as a line of blood made its way down his chin. Roland yelled, “GO!” 

The hall was suddenly flooded with armed fairies, all at Roland's beck and call. Everything happened so quickly that no one responded in the first few seconds. Confusion at what was happening prevented any sort of armed response for a few moments and then suddenly it was chaos. Pandemonium erupted as some fairy guests tried to escape when the realization of what was going on started to sink in. The ballroom was suddenly filled with armed royal guards, but Roland's men were herding guests while others fought off the royal guards. This was all part of Roland's alternate plan if the potion did not work. Roland's smile was something that would make the heart go cold. 

Bog twirled his staff, moving to protect Marianne. She so angry that the fact she was unarmed had not registered with her as she tried to push past Bog and go after Roland. Bog yelled for his own goblins—who numbered only a few—but they came running into the hall to aid their king. 

A dark-skinned elf had been watching the dance from outside the room when everything started to turn. He was a friend of the royal family, more particularly a friend to Dawn. When he realized what was happening, he moved swiftly, going straight for Dawn. He grabbed her by the wrist, surprising her into a scream. “Sunny, what is happening!!?” “Dawn, just come with me—hurry!” He pulled and she came along, stumbling in shock. No one's attention was on them as Sonny swiftly ran for one of the balconies, the two young people disappearing into the darkness. 

Bog disarmed two of Roland's men, giving Marianne the opportunity to arm herself as she kicked the sword of one fallen soldier up into the air and catching it easily by the hilt. The two of them moved to get to Roland. Roland's attention was on getting the king under his control. Now that his plan with Marianne had fallen apart, he needed to secure the king in order to get control of the situation. He was yelling orders to have Marianne's father put in chains, pushing his way through the crowd. 

Bog snarled, baring his fanged teeth. This was not going to go well at all, if this Roland person managed to get a hold of Marianne too. Plus, Bog noticed that he had the potion. Bog shuddered at the thought. He flew into the air just as he saw Marianne, still armed, take off after Roland. Bog didn't know his wife well, but he knew her well enough to know she was going to fight him tooth and nail when he tried to get her out of here. Bog knew without a doubt he needed to get her out of there before Roland had a chance to take her prisoner as well. The only safe place he could get her to was his kingdom. That was what he was going to do. 

Bog tried to go after Marianne, gliding up over the fighting in the limited space. It was not that he didn't want her to kill Roland, but they needed to get out of the ballroom before they became trapped. Their were too many men on Roland's side and he had caught the royal guards unawares. With a battle cry, Marianne dived at Roland. Roland yelped just barely having time to turn his blade, with a flick of his wrist he managed to block Marianne's vicious attack. She leaped back, showing her teeth when her blade crashed against Roland's but did not break through his defense. Roland grinned wickedly at her. 

“Well, look at you, my little Buttercup!” 

Her eyes narrowed, the hate there almost palpable. “Don't call me Buttercup, you SNAKE!” 

She launched herself for a new attack, but Roland was surprisingly good. For all his vanity with his looks, he did know how to use his sword. As Marianne swooped in close with a lunge and twist of her blade, Roland snapped his sword upward, driving her weapon up high and then slashed with a backhand stroke, the tip of his blade caught her by surprise, cutting a thin line across her nose and down her cheek, blooding her face. She gasped in shock, her wings gave a powerfully push, pulling her away from Roland's attack as blood ran down over her mouth and chin. 

Bog roared, managing to scattered some of Roland's men as he pushed into the air again to grab his wife around the waist and twisted around, flying as fast as he could to get them both out of there. Marianne fought against him, screaming with rage at Roland as the fearsome Bog King broke through Roland's armed men and out into the night.


	3. Flight, Fear, and Anger

Bog was having trouble flying as Marianne kept trying to break free of him. At one point during their flight from the castle, she managed to get an arm loose and slammed her elbow into his face. Bog grunted in pain, tasting hot blood in his mouth, his upper lip having split against his fanged teeth. He snarled, trying to keep his hold, but she was struggling so hard that Bog nearly dropped her and his staff. She jerked around and he suddenly lost his balance in the air. He listed dangerously to the side his wings fluttering oddly at the sudden shift of weight as Marianne struggled to escape his embrace. 

Bog lost altitude and started to fall as Marianne continued to fight him until they finally fell out of the air, crashing down through branches, vines and other vegetation at the edge of the Dark Forest. Bog managed to keep his hold on the princess, just barely. He twisted so that his back and head hit the ground first; he wanted to protect her from injury despite her vicious attempts to get away from him. In the fall, one of his wings hit a branch and a twig tore through it creating yet another hole and sending pain lancing through his back, eliciting a snarl from him. He slammed down hard enough that his head snapped and bounced against the ground, but he had protected Marianne from the worst of the fall. His eyes fluttered; the strike on the back of his skull was enough to rattle his hard head and loosen his grip on the princess. 

Marianne shot up, breaking free of his embrace and shoving away from him. She was so upset and angry that she wanted to beat him for taking her from the castle. She spun around, her fist ready to clock him, when she realized Bog had not gotten up. Bog was still down and his eyes weren't focusing, then his head slumped back. Marianne stared at him for a moment. He didn't move. She crouched down to check his breathing, then examined his head gently. 

He was bleeding a little bit, she saw a small branch sticking through one of his wings and he was covered in cuts, scrapes and bruises from their fall. She stood up, looking around trying to figure out exactly where they were. From the looks of it, they were on the edge of the Dark Forest. No one was in sight. For a moment, she thought about taking off back to the castle. Flying she might be able to make it by daybreak, but she looked down again at her unconscious and defenseless husband. She couldn't leave him out here alone like this, anything could get at him, could kill him. And no matter how angry she was, he had done what he did to save her. 

She put her hands under his arms and pulled with all her strength trying to move him under some low hanging leaves and brush. By the time she got him under cover, she was exhausted and sweating. She sat down next to him, gently moving his head onto her lap. He was breathing alright, but there was more blood from her ungraceful moving of him. She pressed her lips together trying to remember anything about how to treat someone hurt like this, but everything she knew applied to fairies, not goblins. He also had a nasty cut on the left side of his head, near one of his ears. She could help with that. 

She ripped part of her dress away and used it to wipe the blood, being as careful as she could. As she was doing so, she started to cry. She was so angry! The tears started to drip down her cheeks. She wiped at them angrily. She could not believe any of this was happening, that she had misjudged Roland so completely. Yes, he cheated on her, but she had thought that was just his vanity. But this—this was more than that, this was power hungry greed. She did not think him capable of this sort of action, this level of planning, and she could not believe she had been so wrong. 

Marianne felt that this was all her fault, that if she had somehow been more aware she could have prevented this. She swallowed, looking down at Bog. His injury was her fault too. If she hadn't fought him so hard, then this would not have happened. All he was doing was trying to help her and look how she repaid him. She swallowed hard trying to force the tears away, but they came anyway. 

\----- 

Sunny dragged Dawn behind him, cutting through the flower fields, taking a path known only to those who did not fly. He finally saw the dim lights of the elf village up ahead. Neither did he stop moving, nor did he stop hiding until he finally came to his house. He glanced around to make sure no one saw them and then he shoved Dawn into the darkened home. 

Both of them were panting and he heard Dawn draw in a breath, but he could also hear the sob in it. He reached over and very gently pulled her into his arms. Dawn held on tightly, laying her head on his shoulder. He could feel her trembling. “Are you okay, Dawn?” 

He felt her nod, but she was crying. “Oh Sunny, Marianne, Daddy, Bog! Where is everyone? What is happening? I just don't understand! How could Roland do that?!” Sunny rubbed one hand up and down her back, careful of her wings as he whispered. “I don't know, Dawn. I don't know, but I thought I saw Bog fly by with your sister.” 

She pulled back, but not completely out of his embrace. “You did?!” Her eyes were huge, glimmering and shining from her crying. She looked liked she needed to believe him. Sunny's heart constricted. He had been in love with her for as long as he could remember and would do anything for her. Right now she needed his protection, but he was not going to lie to her. 

“I think I did Dawn, but I can't be sure. Right now we need to get you someplace safe. When Roland realizes he doesn't have you or Marianne, I bet he will start searching for you both.” Dawn pressed her lips together trying not to cry, but he could feel her shaking in his arms as she nodded. Sunny lean up and rubbed his nose against hers like they use to do when they were kids. Dawn giggled softly with a slight hiccup from crying. “Elf kisses?” Sunny grinned. “Remember you always said elf kisses made you brave?” 

She blushed remembering when they were children, rubbing noses when they would play games and her telling him one time that his elf kisses made her brave like Marianne. Dawn took a deep breath. “So what do we do?” Sunny smiled at her. “First, we need to make sure you're safe. Then we need to find the Bog King.” Dawn gave him a stern look, which still ended up looking adorable as she held Sunny's arms. “You are not going anywhere without me.” 

\----- 

Roland snarled, slamming his fist into the throne and then dropped his head into his hands taking a few deep breaths. The urge to do something destructive was strong, but he knew he needed to think clearly. He had the king, he just needed the princesses and then the kingdom would be his. The triplets stood there in front of him having just delivered the bad news that both the princesses were missing. “I seriously cannot believe BOTH princesses got away!” Roland laid back on the throne, looking annoyed. Then he sat up quickly, his eyes bright and his typical grin spreading across his features. “Alright, this is what we're going to do...” 

\----- 

Bog's eyes fluttered open and he groaned loudly. His head was killing him, well not just his head, every inch of him was aching. As his eyes focused, he could see Marianne looking down at him and he realized his head was in her lap. He sat up so fast that he hit her in the jaw with his forehead, the dull pain in his head suddenly turned into a roar of pain which made him groan and drop back onto her lap. Marianne yelped, grabbing her chin as he fell back against her thighs. He threw a hand over his eyes the drums in his head beating loudly as Marianne groaned holding her chin. 

“What the heck?” 

Bog peeked at her through his gnarled fingers. “Sorry.” 

She stared at him and smiled a little. “Actually, I deserved that.” 

The one eye peeking at her through his fingers looked confused. “Huh?” 

Marianne flushed. “I'm sorry about fighting you like that.” 

Bog closed his eyes. “I understand, you wanted to fight, but we were out numbered.” 

She reached down gently touching his rough, leafy head. He winced at the sudden touch, but then went very still; he found it was pleasant and he didn't want to ruin it by moving. “I know. I just—he has my father and I have no idea what happened to Dawn.” 

Bog opened his eyes again. She winced then, those blue orbs were filled with pain that he was pushing down, but he murmured, “We need to get to my castle. Regroup, figure out who Roland has besides your father, if he captured your sister, or my mother. But we will take your father and home back. I promise.” 

She couldn't keep the tears from her eyes, which angered her, but he was so willing to help her and they had only known each other a little over a day. “Thank you, Bog.” He pushed himself up with a wince. She stood helping him. His damaged wing fell limply and he jerked with pain. “We may have to walk,” he said through his teeth. Marianne's expression was horrified as she gazed at his wing with its new hole.. Bog shrugged. “It will heal, but I won't be flying for a while.” 

She nodded then picked up his staff for him handing it to him. “I guess we should get going.” He smiled at her, which caused her heart to constrict. He put his hand out to her, her eyes meeting his as she reached out and wrapped her fingers around his.


	4. Escapes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is unedited so I apologize for any mistakes!

Griselda narrowed her eyes as she looked out from her hiding place. She had moved swiftly when she realized what was going on at the Spring ball. She saw her son and his wife disappear after Marianne had attacked that Roland character. She didn't notice where the other princess got off too but it wasn't long before she realized Roland did not have either princess. That made Griseldas expression turn wicked. Good, the traitor had failed in that at least. 

She was trembling with rage but she remained in her hiding spot. She had seen several of their goblins go down under the blade, now dead, their bodies tossed from the fairy castle like so much garbage. Young goblins she had known since they were wee ones. She thought one or two of their people may have gotten away but she could not be sure. Her heart hurt in her chest knowing she would have to let their families know of their deaths. She waited for hours before she attempted to move, her joints stiff. She stepped out from the darkness of hiding place where she had managed to remain hidden when the attack turned deadly. 

Griselda managed to keep to the dark moving, silently through the fairy halls. There were a few guards, but not as many as she would have thought there should be. She had experience in this kind of stealth from when she was younger, the battles she fought beside Bog's father, she knew how to get out of hostile territory. It had been years since she had had to put these skills to use, but she could do this, she needed to get to the dark forest. Her son, she had to find him, help him take back this kingdom for his wife. But first, perhaps she should rescue the fairy king. She smirked. Oh old Dagda was going to love that. 

* 

The next day word had traveled through the kingdom of the attack. The Bog King had tried to take the throne, but he had instead kidnapped Princess Marianne. Rumors flew that Princess Dawn and the king had been killed by the goblins. Roland had assumed responsibility for the throne, much to the fairy peoples relief. His plan was to attempted to rescue the princess from her bloodthirsty husband. An arranged marriage that should never have happened. That had ended in tragedy for all involved. By the end of that next day, Roland had the support of all the noble fairy houses. 

He smiled, now to make sure certain princesses were indeed out of the way. He would have preferred to have Marianne on his arm to sire royal children but one had to work with what one had. 

* 

Griselda had made she way down to the fairy dungeons, which in the Dark Forest would have been considered very plush lodgings for nobility. Fairies really didn't know how to keep prisoners she smirked as she looked around. Griselda scrambled quickly, keeping to the darkness as much as possible. 

At one point she heard voices echoing down the hall. She slipped into the deeper shadows. The dark was a goblins best friend. She squatted down, willing herself invisible, not real magic, just wishful thinking. She listened and waited. The voices never moved further down the passage, which gave her a moment of relief. They belonged to guards from the way they were speaking, one of them was talking about the fact that Roland was going to need to do something about the king. The other guard seemed tired, by his reactions, he was not really focusing on the conversation which was event by his short, monotone answers. Griselda smiled, Dagda was going to hate this more than the fact his eldest was married to a goblin, because a goblin was going to rescue his sorry ass. 

* 

Marianne was not use to walking quite so much. Plus, as they went deeper and deeper into the Dark Forest, the place seemed to close in on them. Shadows lengthened, the darkness seemed to cause a heavy silence to fall on the place. The noises she did hear, were strange and eerie. She was mostly staying behind Bog. She was constantly looking over her shoulder thinking something was following them, only to find that there was nothing there. 

The wound on her nose, though not horribly deep, had begun to sting. Her husband had stopped at one point when he saw a particular plant with odd little red berries on it. He examined it for a long time it seemed. Marianne had never seen before. He had picked some of the berries and without a word, crushed them between his fingers. He then had put the gooey mess on his own nicks and cuts, sighing with event relief. Bog glanced at her, reaching out with one long claw.

“May I?” 

Marianne had jerked back, her nose wrinkled at the smell. “What is it?” 

Bog sighed with infinite patience. “It will help that cut heal without infection. I'm afraid you might have a light scar though.” 

She frowned, it didn't exactly smell pleasant but most things good for you didn't, so she stayed still. Her eyes gazed up at his blue eyes, that were really very lovely. Bog carefully and very delicately, rubbed the stuff over her wound. He was very gentle as he spread the liquid over her nose. It stung, but he was extremely tender in his administrations. He used the tip of his claw to apply it, tracing the mark carefully. His claw only barely touching her skin. She watched his blue eyes as he concentrated on spreading the mixture evenly. He was so careful, delicate as he applied the mess to her nose. She pressed her lips together when it would sting. Bog would notice and stop his movements. His eyes locking with hers, his brow forming a quizzical look, clearly asking permission, silently, if she was alright, before continuing. 

When he finished, his blue eyes glanced at hers, full of concern. They stared at one another until Marianne whispered. 

“Thank you Bog.” 

He blushed. It was the sweetest. most endearing thing Marianne had ever seen. 

“You...ah...you're welcome.” He looked away as he mumbled. 

Marianne took a breath glancing around them. Everything here looked the same to her, dark, foreboding, menacing. “How much farther do you think?” 

Bog's gaze traveled around, his eyes slightly narrowed. 

“Not sure, flying can take up to a few hours, walking longer. I am hoping we will come across the mushrooms. They will be able to send a message for help to the castle. Honestly...” 

He turned toward her, the look in his eyes, the slump of his shoulders, the way he held his staff, all communicated how unsure he was, 

“I, I don't really know where we crashed. And...well...” 

He turned away again. “I'm not really sure where we entered.” 

He said this last part quietly. He didn't want to upset her but after crashing, hitting his head, he was a bit confused about exactly where they had entered the Dark Forest. He wasn't even sure which direction they were going. 

Marianne could tell he was upset but he was trying not to upset her by admitting too much. She reached out and took his free hand. 

“Let's keep going and find these mushrooms, okay?” 

Bog looked a bit startled by her taking his hand the way she did. She was, well, cute, with the crushed berries on her nose, the earnest look in her eyes. He swallowed hard, giving her a slight smile. 

“Ah, we should probably find some place to sleep for the rest of the night. It's ah, getting too dark to keep moving.” 

Marianne nodded. “Alright, we both probably need the rest.” 

After a few more minutes of hunting, Bog found them a small hollowed out tree that looked to be safe enough. His father had taught him as a child about hunting and camping, saying that even a king needed to know how to survive alone in the forest. Bog smiled at the memory, thanking his father for the lessons that he was now putting into practice. These unusual skills for a king were helping to keep both his wife and himself safe. 

Bog settled down with his back against the rough wood. He remained sitting up in order to stay alert. Marianne stepped into the hollowed wood, looking around slowly. It was snug and it seemed well hidden. She lowered herself down next to Bog. Her eyes traveled upward where a hint of moonlight peaked through the rotted tree. She wrapped her arms around herself. She was terrified, lost, with no idea what had happened to her father or her sister. Bog watched her through half lidded eyes. He wasn't sure what he should do to comfort her but he brought his arm up. Marianne looked at him, the unspoken invitation clear in the raised arm, then smoothly moved over to him. She cuddled against his hard side, her head resting on his chest. Bog kept his arm suspended over Marianne, not really sure if he should put his arm around her, but Marianne reached up guiding his arm down to rest against her shoulders. She sighed softly. It wasn't long before Bog could tell she had fallen into an exhausted sleep pressed close to him. Soon he relaxed, tightening his arm around her protectively. She sleepily snuggled closer. Bog smiled, laying his head back against the wood. He didn't know how, but he would help her get her kingdom back. Whatever this beautiful creature, who trusted him, needed, he would try to provide her with his help. He would be there for his wife however she needed him, for however long she needed him. 

* 

Griselda waited so long, listening and watching, that when she was finally able to move, her legs were stiff. She made a face, she was way too old for this shit she thought to herself. After an hour or more she was fairly confident she could get pass the guards, not only because of her small size, but they were clearly lazy in their responsibilities. One of them was sleeping and another was no where to be seen. It was now or never. 

As Griselda slunk through the long line of cells, she could see that most were not occupied. There were a few prisoners, most of them asleep. She finally found the cell where the king was being held. Dagda was sitting on a bed in the cell, his head resting in his hands. He looked as if he had been crying. Griselda could just tell by the set of his shoulders though he made no sound. She swallowed. She could only imagine what he thought might have happened to his daughters. She glanced around, making sure the guards would not hear her before she hissed. “Hey.” 

At first Dagda didn't respond. Griselda made a face to herself hissing louder. “Dagda!” 

He turned and she would have burst out laughing if not for the danger they were in. The look on his face was pure comic gold. His eyes darted around swiftly then he was dashing over to her. 

“Griselda?” 

She gave him her biggest flat toothed smile. “The one and only.” 

Dagda's eyes darted around again then back at her. “What are you planning?” 

She smiled wider. “Well, I was planning on breaking you out of here. Unless you want to stay?” 

Dagda frowned. “How?” 

She reached between the bars and patted his cheek. “Just you trust little old Griselda.” 

Dagda made a sour face but stepped back when Griselda motioned him back. She pulled one of the pieces of bone from her necklace. She fiddled with it before she pulled out a long, slim, sliver of bone. She inserted it into the lock of the cell. It took a few strange little wiggles and suddenly the door popped open. It didn't creak like the cells doors in the Dark Forest castle. Dagda didn't wait, he hurried out. Griselda motioned him to follow. He was smart enough to know when to follow orders. 

He stayed close to Griselda, part of him surprised by her knowledge of his castle, the other part of him suspicious. It was soon clear she was using the servant routes. Dagda leaned close. 

“Where are we going?” 

She stopped turning to glance over her shoulder at him. 

“Look, this is not the time or place to talk about this! We need to get out first.” 

Her whisper was heated. This was always more dangerous with someone else, especially someone not trained in stealth.


	5. Rain and Owls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short unedited chapter. I cannot decide whether to continue with this story or not...but I wrote this and thought I would go ahead to put it up.

Marianne woke curled snugly against Bog. His eyes were closed and his breathing had that steady flow of someone deeply asleep. His staff was still held in the other hand protectively across them both. She lay against him not wanting to move and break the spell. She felt safe, despite all that had happened, she felt protected with her strange husband. She shifted position, though when she realized her arm was asleep. She would need to wrap her other arm around his waist in order to move herself over. 

As Marianne was contemplating the best way to move, Bog opened his eyes at the foreign feel of someone's arm around him. Bog jerked, nearly dislodging her in his panic, when he realized it was Marianne. 

She sat up. “Sorry did I scare you?” She started to shake her arm trying to bring feeling back while pens and needles raced up and down the limb. Bog looked nervous but he smiled. “No, no you're fine. Sorry...” 

They both looked embarrassed but then Bog returned his arm back around her shoulders. He waited to see if she would yank back. When she didn't, he very gently squeezed her shoulders. He looked up to see it was early morning, the sun's light was weak as it tried to find its way into the Dark Forest. 

“We should probably start moving soon.” Bog frowned sniffing the air then cursing under his breath. “What is it?” Marianne stood reluctantly, stretching her arms over her head. Bog glanced sideways at her swallowing. She was...he immediately pushed that thought away instead of following it to his conclusion. 

“There is rain in the air. It's going to make traveling more difficult.” 

Marianne frowned. “Are you going to be alright?” 

He blushed. “I'll be fine. More worried about you.” 

They stared at each other, then Bog cleared his throat. “Uh, let's, let's get going.” 

* 

They were moving slowly, the rain, mud, under-growth, was making traveling difficult. Marianne could see how frustrated Bog was becoming. He was clearly in pain, she could see it etched across his features but he never said a word. She could tell he was beginning to lean more and more heavily on his staff. He was moving slower. His wings were kept down close to his body but they would twitch every so often and he would pale when this happened. 

Clearly the tears in his wings were more painful than he had let on. 

The rain was pouring down so hard that it was difficult to see ahead of them. Moving was slow and difficult. The berried paste that Bog had on his wings had washed off hours ago. They had been walking for quite a while but Marianne hadn't seen any more of the bright red berries, anywhere. After a few hours, a low rolling fog moved in while they moved through some twisted vines that crawled along the ground. 

In places the vines were very thick and had to be clambered over carefully. Bog used his staff to help climb over some of the thicker vines, stopping and turning he reaching down to take her hand. He carefully helped to pull her up. He winced, paling again, but he said nothing and made no other indication that he was in pain. He was clearly trying to hide the face that he was hurting. 

Marianne had just reached the top of the thick vine, Bog stood up straight gazing out into the rainy darkness beyond. He tilted his head, listening to something over the sound of the rain. Marianne instinctively knew to stay quiet, watching him. Bog was clearly listening to something, trying to figure out what it was he was hearing. 

* 

Sunny hurried through the elf village. Everyone had been at the town square to hear the announcement that Roland would be taking over as king, Dagda and Princess Dawn were dead in the uprising and Princess Marianne had been taken prisoner by the goblins. He couldn't believe what was happening! Sunny moved swiftly, turning a corner and looking around before opening the door to a root cellar . He quickly dropped down into darkness. He heard a soft squeak somewhere in the back. Sunny quickly shoved his hand into a pocket and pulled out a stone, the rock was soft light-blue, much like Dawn's eyes. Quickly he rubbed the stone in his opposite and, the stone started to glow dimly in the dark cellar. There, huddled in a corner was Dawn. She looked too pale, her blue eyes too big, her lovely wings looking pale wrapped around her body. It was clear she had been crying, the tears having left a trail and in the grime on her face, her eyes bloodshot. Sunny swiftly made his way over to her giving in to the urge to throw his arms around her. Dawn snuggled in close to him burying her face against his neck. “Oh Sunny I was so scared something had happen to you!” Sunny held her close. “I am so sorry I took so long. I brought you something to eat.” 

He had kept her hidden down here while things were so chaotic. Thank goodness Roland may have the soldiers loyalty but it didn't inspire them to be effective. They had been sent to the elf village to look for evidence of goblins or Princess Marianne. Everyone had worked to make sure they didn't find Princess Dawn, luckily the guards weren't concerned about doing a complete search. 

She ate the few biscuits cuddling against Sunny. He kept an arm around her while she ate. She murmured softly. “So can we leave yet?” 

Sunny nodded. “Yeah. Going to take off tonight. You, me, and Pare.” 

Chewing absently she nodded. “You think my father is still alive?” 

Sunny frowned but he whispered. “I don't see Roland having the guts to kill your father but I don't know. He did announce that both and and your father were dead.” he rubbed her arms pulling her against him. “We know Marianne and the Bog King are alive. We are going into the Dark Forest and we are going to find them.” 

Dawn quickly finished eating. “I'm ready Sunny.” 

He nodded. “Let's go. Pare is meeting us at the edge of the village.” 

* 

Marianne heard something over the sounds of the rain. It was difficult, the rain was loud as it hit the ground and the leaves around them. She couldn't place the sound but as she turned she saw a shadow heading straight for them. 

“BOG!” She grabbed his arm yanking him hard enough that they both fell just as the owl swooped down on the two of them...


	6. A Fairy's Love Song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was asked by a very sweet person if I would continue this story...so here we go!!!  
> Oh and here is a link to the song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2cpv6KlnGcE

The owl landed on the ground nearly on top of where Marianne and Bog had been just moments before; the owl fumbled in it's landing as if it was not very good yet. Marianne struggled to grab Bog and yank him back into the undergrowth, trying to pull them out of the owl's grasp before it's deadly beak could reach out and grab either of them. They both fell into the undergrowth with a loud. “Owff!” 

Bog landed on top of Marianne, but she was so scared that she didn't care. She wrapped her arms protectively around him keeping him from moving as she twisted around to see what the owl was doing. 

Marianne had grown up on horror stories of what owls could do to the unwary fairy, which was why fairies were always taught not to fly at night, especially along the border of the Dark Forest. It was simply too dangerous because there were not only owls, but bats that could swoop down and snag an unsuspecting fairy right out of the air. There were many stories of careless fairies disappearing that way. There were lots of horror stories of birds, owls, bats—pretty much any creature that could fly. The creatures would fly out, snatch the unsuspecting out of the air, tear their wings or worse, and then vanish again into the Dark Forest... 

But once the clumsy owl landed, the owl only stood there, making little chirping noises and twisting his brown feathered head one way then another as if he were confused by the fact that whatever he was aiming for was gone. 

Bog, lying next to Marianne who still had her arms around him, groaned in pain. 

“Damn, Marianne—that hurt!” 

“Bog!! Shush, it'll hear us!” Marianne hissed back at him tightening her hold on him. Bog frowned. This close he noticed that she smelled good. Her body pressed against him and her arms around him was nice too, even if she was hurting his damaged wing. It was such a strange thing to think about all of a sudden...the way she smelled and felt. Bog mental chided himself. 

Bog rolled over, trying to twist around in her embrace. When she realized he wasn't going to stop trying to right himself, Marianne loosened her grip. 

“Just be quiet please!” she hissed a warning at him. 

Bog nodded, finally twisting himself around in her arms and looked in the direction where Marianne was staring, crouched down under the heavy vines and damp leaves. 

Bog grinned, his crooked fangs revealed. “Cerridwen!” 

Bog pushed himself up with the help of his staff and stood, which forced Marianne to let go of him. 

Marianne squawked in a panic. “BOG!!” 

But it was too late, he had walked out toward the owl, one hand out to touch it. The owl made a little chirping sound and twisted its head toward Bog. For a moment it looked as if the owl was about to take a bite out of Bog's hand; Marianne leapt to her feet to dash out and try to save him, but instead the owl simply bumped his deadly beak against Bog's outstretched hand. Bog chuckled, smoothing his hand over the owl's beak then up into the top feathers of its head. The owl chirped and leaned into Bog's touch. 

Smiling, Bog turned to glance over his shoulder at Marianne. “Come here and meet Cerridwen.” 

Marianne slowly—and not without feeling a knot of fear in her stomach—stepped out from under her cover watching in astonishment while Bog cooed back at the owl, stroking his clawed fingers through it's feathers. The bird chirped and blinked it's wide eyes against the rain, clearly enjoying Bog's touch. 

As she approached, Marianne could see that the owl wasn't actually full grown, it still had the fuzzy down feathers of a baby. Marianne frowned in realization; this wasn't an owl but an owlet. She walked over slowly and the little owlet twisted its head to examine her, more with curiosity than hunger. 

Bog smiled. Marianne marveled again at how his smile made his face seem gentle, his eyes warm and inviting. “Cerridwen is part of the royal clutch. We raise and train them as hunting companions. Not sure why Cerridwen is out here alone in the rain, but she has shown herself to not be the...wisest of her siblings.” He chuckled warmly. 

Marianne stopped where she was and stared at Bog. “You train them as hunting companions?” 

Bog turned to look at her, surprised by the fear in her voice. “Yes, mice, spiders, vermin that could hurt my people, and for food of course. Goblins, unlike fairies, are omnivorous Marianne. Why is that so distressing?” 

Marianne just stared then whispered. “Do you hunt fairies?” 

Bog blinked in astonishment. “No! Why would you even ask such a thing!” 

Bog turned away from her, clearly offended. Marianne frowned crossing her arms protectively over hers chest. “There are stories of owls and bats...hunting fairies...” 

Bog nodded turning back to her. “I'm...I'm sorry, but there are some that do, but none that we goblins raise, I promise you Marianne.” 

Bog reached out for her hand. “Come, meet Cerridwen.” 

Marianne still looked unsure, but she stepped closer. When Marianne was close enough, Bog carefully reached out and took her hand. “Just pet her feathers in this direction, she doesn't like it if you pet against them.” 

Marianne was trying not to tremble, but she was fascinated. The owl simply moved its head, pressing its beak against her palm as if smelling her. Marianne nearly jumped a in fear, but with Bog's hand wrapped gently around her wrist, his staff held in such a way that Marianne could tell it wouldn't take much to use the staff to defend them against the owlet, Bog tugged her gently closer. 

Cerridwen nudged Marianne's palm then turned away. Bog smiled at her. “She likes you.” 

Marianne frowned running her hand over the owlet's feathers enjoying the sensation of petting the little owl despite the rain. 

“How do you know?” Marianne asked glancing sideways at Bog. 

Bog grinned with a reply. “She didn't try to eat you.” 

“Oh.” Marianne slowly pulled her hand away. 

“I'm sorry—that was in bad taste. But she didn't try to bite you, that usually means she likes someone.” Bog gave Marianne a smile, and again, that smile of his did strange things to her insides as if summoning a whole fleet of butterflies into life to flutter around nervously in her stomach. 

Bog frowned as he studied Cerridwen. Marianne wiped her hand over her face, glancing up. The rain had begun to fall heavier. “Bog, we need to find shelter.” He nodded. “You're right. We should bring Cerridwen with us. I'm not sure she can make it back in this weather and she might be able to help us get to the castle or send some of my people here for us. I need to find a way to have her deliver a message.” 

* 

Two cloaked figures made their way through the rain, walking the muddy streets of the elven village. The only signs of life were the orange glow of candlelight coming from inside the elven homes, but otherwise, the only people out in this weather were those trying to hurriedly get from one place to the other and a few of Roland's guards who were heading toward the local elven tavern to get out of the rain themselves and have a pint of something to drink. Dawn was crouched down uncomfortably, trying to make herself look as small as possible. That was were the rain was coming in helpful, no one bothered to look closely at the too-tall elf. 

Sunny took her hand, hurrying around a corner and into a dark alley. Dawn's heart was beating so hard against her chest that it was painful and she was sure she was going to pass out. She was doing her best to be brave for her sister. Marianne wouldn't be scared, or if she were she wouldn't show it, she would do what had to be done. But Dawn took comfort in Sunny's hand in hers; if it wasn't for him she would not have been able to do any of this... 

A few moments later they both heard the sound of boots squishing through mud. The glow of the lantern heralded the approach of someone from the other end. Sunny and Dawn tensed, but then the person came around the corner at the opposite end. Dawn couldn't see clearly, but whoever it was must be someone Sunny knew, because she felt the tension drain from his body. Sunny tugged her with him as they approached the figure. 

Sunny looked up into the eyes of Pare. “I thought you were going to meet us at the edge of town?” 

Pare smiled. “Sorry, but with the rain I thought it might be better if I just came to get you.” 

Sunny started to say something, but they all heard voices. Pare quickly covered the lantern that he had been holding and the three of them crouched down, letting the rain and darkness hide them. At the other end of the alley where Dawn and Sunny entered, two of Roland's guards walked past. Their speech was hard to hear over the rain, but one of them was complaining about Roland being king. 

“I just think something is fishy is all,” the taller of the two fairy guards muttered. 

The other one elbowed him hard in the side nearly knocking his friend into the alley. “Shut up, you want someone to hear you? Roland would have your head.” 

“Sorry Christopher.” 

“You better be Edgar. Just do your job...mostly...just stay low and maybe...I don't know...” 

The two guards continued walking. The three fugitives looked at each other, then Pare motioned. “Follow me.” 

* 

In another part of the kingdom, Griselda breathed a sigh of relief. The rain would work in their favor. They were both dressed in fairy armor, the two fairy guards that Griselda had “disabled” were well hidden, and it could be days before they were found, if they were lucky. Dagda glanced at the shorter goblin woman. The armor didn't fit her well at all and she had no wings, but the cape she had found disguised that fact. Her mere presence made up for the lack of fit with the armor. No one had questioned them when they walked out of the castle. 

“Now what?”Dagda asked softly. 

Griselda sighed. “We head to the forest. If we are going to take your kingdom back, we are going to need an army.” 

Dadga paled under his helmet. The thought of an army of goblins...Griselda smacked him hard on the arm, bringing Dadga back to the present. 

“Don't you even start thinking that a taking your kingdom back with a goblin army would be worse than what is happening right now, you old fart.” 

“Old fart?” Dadge stood up to his full height in indignation, but Griselda smacked him again. 

“Stop it. Now come on.” Griselda took off, dropping down to the ground below, landing in a graceful crouch despite the armor. Dadga frowned, but followed. He may not have liked it, but she was correct. If he was to get his throne back from Roland, he needed an army and it might just have to be an army of goblins. 

* 

Bog found them a place to weather out the storm. It was a small abandoned burrow under the roots of a large, old oak tree. The burrow was warm and mostly dry. Once Bog had Marianne and Cerridwen inside the burrow, he went back out into the rain despite Marianne's protests. 

“Bog you can't go back out there alone.” Marianne frowned. 

Bog shook his head. “I need you to stay here with Cerridwen, she can't be trusted not to go out into the storm again. Just pet her, keep her calm. I'll be right back.” And then Bog left, using his staff to help him. Marianne watched him go, something in her chest twisting. 

The burrow was dark, the only light coming from the occasional bolt of lightning outside and the glow of the owlet's eyes. Cerridwen chirped and if Marianne had thought the owlet could speak she could have said that Cerridwen was worried about Bog too. Marianne sat down next to the owlet who surprised her by scooting closer. Marianne began to gently stroke her feathers. 

“He'll be all right,” Marianne said softly. 

Cerridwen chirped back as if telling her that Bog would be all right too. 

* 

Bog returned fifteen minutes later, limping, clearly having over-exerted himself and quickly approaching the point where he would have to rest or collapse. Under one arm he carried several large twigs and branches. 

He set them down on the floor of the burrow. 

“Marianne, I need to you strip as much of the bark from these as you can. I have to go out one more time.” 

Marianne stood up. “Bog, no! Why?” 

Cerridwen hooted in protest as well. 

“I saw some wild asparagus, some cattails, some wood sorrel and bilberries. We need to eat. I will be as quick as I can.” Bog sounded tired and looked exhausted. Marianne could see he was pale, the rain water running off his scales made him shiver. He turned to leave, but Marianne grabbed his arm. 

“Let me go.” She looked up at him with pleading brown eyes. 

Bog turned to look at her, even in the dim light from the occasional lightning flash outside Marianne could see the expression on his face, a cross between bewilderment at her concern and annoyance. 

“Do you know which ones are bilberries or wood sorrels? Which are poisonous and which greens are not?” Bog asked, his voice flat. 

Marianne frowned. “No.” She dropped her hold on him, but she still looked at him with concern. 

“Then I need to be the one to go. Just strip the bark for me, please. That will be a big help and keep Cerridwen from going outside. All right? Please.” Bog's weary voice was pleading. 

Marianne sighed and nodded. “I will. Be careful.” 

Bog smiled at her. “I will.” 

He started to leave again, but Marianne reached out and gently took his free hand. Bog turned around to look at her in question. Marianne squeezed his hand. “Just...come back, all right?” 

Bog smiled and Marianne felt that explosion of butterflies in her stomach at the sight of his smile. “I promise Marianne. I'll be back soon.” Marianne nodded. She was just about to let go of him when Bog startled both her and himself when he quickly leaned down and gave her a peck on the cheek before hurrying back out into the rain. Marianne stood there, unable to move, staring as Bog disappeared into the rain, one hand resting on her chest and the fingertips of the other reaching up to touch where his warm lips had just been. 

* 

Bog was gone nearly half an hour; Marianne was frantic. She had stripped the bark from the wood as well as she could. She had sung to Cerridwen until the owlet seemed to have fallen asleep. The lightning had stopped, but the rain was still coming down hard. Marianne started to imagine all sorts of terrible things. What if Bog had collapsed, what if something had attacked him, a spider! A lizard? Or something worse, she couldn't even imagine! What if he had fallen and was lying in the mud unable to move...what if he fallen into a stream and was washed away. What if he needed her? 

The funny thing was, she realized suddenly, that she wasn't worried about being alone out here—what she was worried about was Bog's health...was Bog. At one point Marianne frowned. When had she started to care? 

She had finally decided that she was going to go out and find him when a tall, thin shadow appeared at the entrance to the burrow. 

“BOG!!” Marianne jumped up startling Cerridwen awake to chirp with annoyance at being woke up. 

Marianne ran to Bog and threw herself around him, nearly knocking him back out of the burrow. 

“Whoa, whoa! You're going to make me drop our dinner!” Bog actually chuckled though the sound was weak. 

Marianne hugged him one more time, than stepped back and smacked him in the chest. “Where were you?!” 

Bog limped inside, holding what looked to be a bag he had made out of a large green leaf. He set it down, the leaf falling open to reveal that it was packed full of greens and deep bluish purple berries. 

Bog sighed as he sat, using his staff to lower himself down before leaning his staff against the dirt wall. Marianne gazed at him with worry. He looked paler than he had before and exhausted. 

“Sorry it took me so long. I wanted to gather enough for us to eat tonight and in the morning. The rain made it a challenge.” 

Marianne nodded. “Thank you Bog.” 

He gave her a weak smile closing his eyes for a moment, resting his head against the dirt wall, before he pushed himself up to sit straight. “All right, let's get a fire started.” 

“How are you going to do that? The wood is wet still and we don't have anything to start a fire with.” Marianne poked at the wood with a defeated droop of her shoulders. 

Bog grinned. “Just watch and learn.” 

Bog glanced around, gathering a few odds and ends inside the burrow as well as some of the bark that had dried while Marianne waited for Bog to return. He gathered those bits to use as kindling. Then Bog leaned forward and surprised her when he used his claws like one would use a flint and steel to start a fire by causing them to spark. It took him a few tries, but on the fourth he produced enough of a spark with his claws for the kindling catch. 

It only took a few more minutes before Bog had a decent fire started. 

Cerridwen fell back asleep making soft chirps to herself, ruffling her feathers occasionally. 

Bog divided out the food setting a pile in front of Marianne. “Some of it will be a little bitter, but you should eat all of that.” 

Marianne nodded picking up an asparagus and began chewing on it. 

They were both quiet. The sound of the rain filled the burrow along with the sounds of the crackling fire. Bog popped a few berries in his mouth between holding his hands out to the fire. Marianne shivered. Bog frowned glancing at her. He knew what she needed to do, but he didn't know how to tell her without upsetting her. 

After she shivered again Bog finally sighed. “Marianne, you need to strip.” 

“What?” Marianne's head popped up from where she had rested her chin on her knees. 

Bog sighed. “You need to take off your clothes. They'll dry faster if you do and you won't catch a cold.” 

Marianne just stared at him and Bog sighed. “I can turn my back. I won't look, I promise.” 

Shivering, Marianne nodded rather than fighting with him—which was what Bog expected. 

“Really?” Bog asked in astonishment. 

Marianne nodded. “Yes really, I'm freezing.” 

“Oh, okay hold on a minute.” Bog stood picking up one of the branches he hadn't used for the fire. It took a little work, but he managed to made stick it in the ground. “Just hang your clothing the best you can over the branch so they can dry.” 

Bog turned away looking out to watch the rain. He could hear her moving around behind him, the wet sound of clothing hitting something and the sizzle of water hitting the fire. Without turning around Bog said over his shoulder. 

“Be careful not to get your clothing too close. You don't want them to burst into flames.” 

“Okay I'm done,” Marianne said softly. “You can turn around.” 

Bog frowned turning to find Marianne sitting by the fire with bunches of downy feathers hiding certain parts of her. 

Marianne smiled at him. “Cerridwen didn't seem to mind and I didn't want you having to have your back to the fire all night.” 

Bog couldn't help it, he laughed. 

“What's so funny?” Marianne asked as she made herself comfortable by the fire. 

“Fairy modesty. And you are quite clever.” Bog smiled retaking his seat by the fire. 

Marianne grinned at him. “Thank you.” 

* 

They finished eating and after a while Marianne could see how tired Bog was as he leaned back again struggling to keep his eyes open. Marianne shifted closer to him. 

“Bog, you need to rest.” 

His eyes came open. “Sorry, I didn't mean to...” 

Marianne put her hand on his knee. He was still chilly to the touch. Marianne frowned. 

“Here...” She stretched her legs out. “Lay your head down.” 

Bog frowned at her, but Marianne only smiled. “Just lay your head down. It's not weird, I'm your wife aren't I? I'll keep watch.” 

Bog started to protest, but Marianne grabbed his arm and tugged him. Bog sighed and adjusted his position, laying his head down against her thighs. Her skin was soft and her thighs were warm. Marianne started to run her fingers over his head, stroking the soft scale-like hair. She hummed softly then started to sing quietly while she stroked Bog's head and face. He brought a hand up to rest against her calf, his touch gentle. Marianne sang softly, her voice gently lulling the goblin king to sleep. 

* 

“Why should I sit and sigh, 

pulling bracken, pulling bracken? 

Why should I sit and sigh, 

on the hillside dreary? 

Oh, but there is something wanting. 

Oh, but I am weary. 

Come by blythe and bonny laddie, 

o'er the moor to cheer me. 

Why should I sit and sigh, 

pulling bracken, pulling bracken? 

Why should I sit and sigh, 

on the hillside dreary? 

When the moon begins her waning 

I sit by the water 

Where the one born of the sunlight 

Loved the Fairies daughter 

Why should I sit and sigh, 

pulling bracken, pulling bracken? 

Why should I sit and sigh, 

on the hillside dreary?


	7. Siúil a Rún

Marianne woke with a start, her heart hammering in her chest and her body covered in a fine film of perspiration. For a moment, she could not recall where she was... 

She had been dreaming of her wedding. It had started out beautifully, flowers decorating every surface, the pleasant fragrances of the meadow, and the sun warm on her skin. She wore a white dress of spider's silk, the white train flowed behind her decorated with tiny white flower and her wings laid flat against the train, their bright purple mixed with the white flowing down her back along with the dress. She wore a crown of white flowers with baby's breath sprinkled throughout her hair. In the dream she had been walking toward the ceremony altar, a bouquet of summer flowers in her hand, but when she looked up Roland was staring back at her. 

Roland stood there waiting for her but instead of the shining knight in his gleaming armor, his hair perfectly coiffed, his smile that he prided himself on perfectly in place, Marianne saw something dark. Roland tried to portray himself as a perfect gentleman; romantic, dashing, a hero, but here in her dream she could see that there was a dark shadow around him that showed him as he really was...power hungry, vain and self-centered. Marianne had stopped moving, her eyes wandered from Roland to the shadow standing off to the side of Roland. 

The shadows dissolved to show that it was Bog standing there by himself. He leaned on his staff gazing at her with such longing in his blue eyes that it physically hurt her to look at him. As she gazed at him, the shadows around him melted away to show him as he really was, a handsome goblin king, with a tender though broken heart, a man who cared more for others than himself...and cared her. She could feel the emotions emanating from him in the dream. 

She took a step toward him. One of Bog's hands slipped from staff and held his clawed hand out to her, but just as he did, just as Marianne took a step toward Bog, Roland turned and stabbed the goblin in the gut, the blade cutting clean through Bog's armored body at the same moment that fire erupted behind him, burning brightly. The flames turned blue and white, so bright the intensity was almost too much. Marianne shielded her eyes with her hand, but through her fingers she could see Bog reaching for her despite the sword in his stomach. His eyes were pleading with her. She leaned toward him, dropping her bouquet, her fingers brushing the very tip of his claws, but the fire was burning him, she could see his wings catching fire. She tried to yell out to hi, but then he was gone. No, not gone, burning! He was burning alive! Marianne screamed his name in her dream. 

“BOG!” 

Marianne's eyes flew open, the sound of her own voice in the small enclosed space woke her up. Her heart beat hard and fast inside her chest, hard enough that it hurt, the feather fluff stuck to her body from her sweating. She hadn't meant to fall asleep, she had promised to stay awake, to stand guard, but she had been exhausted and Bog's head on her lap, stroking his face, the scales of his head against her thighs and under her fingers, had felt nice. She glanced down, Bog's head was still in her lap. His mouth was slightly open showing a hint of his fanged teeth, but his skin felt hot against her legs. Marianne reached out and touched his forehead. 

“Oh no...” she hissed. Bog was burning up; now that she was looking at him his skin looked splotchy, ashy and there were dark circles under his eyes. She rolled him over carefully so that he was facing her. 

She stroked her fingers along his cheeks. “Bog, Bog can you hear me?” 

Bog's eyes slowly came open, a thin line of blue the only thing she could see behind his thick lashes. “I'm awake—sorry, sorry Marianne.” He gave her a weak smile before he started to push himself up, but Marianne stopped him. 

“Bog, Bog you have fever.” She reached out, laying the back of her hand against his forehead. He was hot to the touch and she could see that all the color was drained from his face even more when he attempted to move, his bright blue eyes looked dull and there was an undercurrent of red to his skin. 

“Oh spirits Bog! You're sick,” Marianne gasped. 

Bog started to push himself up. “No, no it's fine, it'll go away soon. We should get moving.” 

He started to get to his feet but a wave of dizziness washed over him and he crumpled again to the dirt floor. 

“Bog? Bog?” Marianne reached for him. He was unconscious, his breathing shallow. “Oh Bog, no no no no....” Marianne spoke softly trying not to panic. They were lost in the Dark Forest, Bog had a wounded wing and now—because of her, she thought—he was gravely ill and she had no idea how to help him. 

That was when Cerridwen chirped at her. Marianne had almost forgotten about the owlet. Marianne was sitting on her knees and had pulled Bog's head onto her lap again. The little owlet looked concerned, Marianne thought. Bog had said he was going to try to send the owl back with a message of some sort, a way to let his people know where they were and how to find them... 

Marianne knew nothing of owls; all she knew was that they flew at night and were dangerous, but she had to try. She eased Bog's head back down to the ground. He only reacted a little, mumbling something in his sleep and rolled onto his side. Marianne walked over to Cerridwen, reaching out to pet the owlet's head. The little thing leaned into her touch, the creature's eyes closing as she made little “cooing” noises. Marianne continued to stroke the owlet's head gently as she murmured. “What could I give you?” 

She frowned in thought, then she did the only thing she could think of. She walked over to her now dry clothing and took the leggings down. She hated to do this but she had no other ideas, so she sat down next to Bog and used one of his limp clawed hands (which she also hated to do, she felt like she was “using” him while he was unconscious) to cut her leggings off at the knee. Using Bog's claw was awkward and she felt terrible doing that to him while he could say or do nothing consciously. She reached out and stroked his face. “I'm sorry Bog.” 

Picking up the remains of her leggings, she then led the little owl outside. The rain had stopped sometime during the night, leaving everything covered in dew and the ground dangerously soggy, but the air had the smell of wet earth and something else. It wasn't an unpleasant smell...woodsy? Marianne closed her eyes enjoying the crisp feel of the air. The air felt fresh after the rain, but she had work to do; she couldn't stand there smelling the air all day. 

Marianne took a breath and tied the length of cut-off legging around one of the owlets' leg thin legs. She was hoping the cloth wouldn't hinder Cerridwen's flying but she had to do something...She wasn't sure if the Dark Forest kingdom would get the message or understand it when they received it. All Marianne could do was hope that curiosity and Cerridwen, would lead them here. 

Petting Cerridwen's beak gently Marianne murmured. “Go find us help, please.” 

As if she understood, Cerridwen tilted her head all the way to the side gazing at Marianne, then she chirped just before she took off, flying into the air, weaving through the branches of the thick old trees, moving up, up until Marianne lost sight of her. 

She stood there for a long time watching the way the owlet had gone, hoping she had done the right thing... 

* 

As they made their way from the fairy castle and down into the flower fields, Griselda could feel the barely suppressed anger rolling off Dagda in waves. There was a stiffness to his gait and his shoulders that reminded Griselda of her husband when he would become angry, but was doing his best not to show it. She and Dagda had traveled down on foot to the fields with no one stopping them, their disguises hiding them in plain sight. It was here, in the flower fields, that Dagda received an even better look at what was happening in his kingdom. 

The air was filled with the armed bodies of fairy soldiers patrolling the area immediately in front of the castle as well as standing guard on the ground. It looked as if the fairy kingdom was preparing for war; there were soldiers everywhere. No one looked twice at the two armored fairies making their way through the flower fields heading toward the elf village. Griselda was leading them to the village and from there it would be the easy to slip into the Dark Frost unnoticed since the elf village was nearly right on the goblin kingdom's border. They had just turned along the path to start the long walk to the village when Dagda grabbed Griselda's upper arm. 

“Wha...” she started to asked, but he motioned for her to be quiet. They turned to the left heading away from the castle until Griselda realized where they were going—to the stables where the armored squirrels were kept. 

“What are you doing?” Griselda hissed. 

Dagda hissed back. “We'll look less suspicious if we say we are doing border patrols, and if we're doing border patrols we need a squirrel. Besides, it will be a lot faster than walking the whole way on foot.” 

Griselda wanted to protest, but he was correct. A couple of armored squirrels would have them there in no time. 

“All right, let's go,.” she hissed back, the two of them walking swiftly to the stables that were built in a series of flowering dogwood trees that ran in a semicircle around the east side of the castle. 

* 

Marianne was back in the burrow fretting over Bog. He was burning up. The fever had only become worse since she had woken up. He was hot to the touch and he had started muttering more and more, clearly delirious. He was lying on his side twitching, his wings would occasionally rattle and his clawed hands dug into the soil beneath him, but he never opened his eyes. The only time he would settle down would be when Marianne was close to him, touching him. 

Marianne changed into the remains of her clothing and sat down beside him to run a comforting hand along his shoulder and upper arm. Her touch seemed to help calm his fitful sleep, but it was all she could do. 

“Okay Marianne—think. What did your mother do when you were sick...” Marianne spoke out loud to herself. “Okay...I need to cool him down, to bring the temperature down, but how...I don't have a rag I could use...but I could use this...” She touched the edge of her tunic...she could tear some of it off and there was water on some of the leaves outside...cool water... 

Marianne stood up, grabbed the end of her tunic and with all her strength she tried to tear it, but the rose petal fabric refused to tear. Marianne kept trying to rip the fabric, but it just wouldn't give. She would need something that could cut through it, just a little, just enough to give her a weak spot to exploit and it would tear. She thought about using Bog's claws again, but she had felt horrible the first time, so no, she had to find something else. Marianne searched the burrow until her eyes landed on Bog's staff. “Yes!” Marianne exclaimed hurrying over to the staff. The top of the staff was styled into curves and whorls that resembled dried leaves, a thistle on top (at least that was what Marianne thought it was )with thin pieces of metal holding a large amber stone in the middle. All she would need would be a corner sharp enough to tear the flower fabric. Marianne sat down and lifted the head of the staff onto her lap. She experimented with the points until she found one that felt sharp enough. It was a little awkward, but she lined the fabric up and pushed down—the sharp metal tore through it easily. 

Once she had the tear it was far easier, though it still required effort, to tear a long, thick strip of cloth free. 

She dashed outside looking around until she saw some ferns near the burrow, shimmering with water still clinging to the leaves. Marianne rushed over, but she was careful as she used the rag she had created to soak up some of the water and hurried back inside to Bog. Marianne dropped down to her knees, tenderly lifting Bog's head, tilting his head back and laid the rag across his forehead. 

“Bog, what do I do?” Marianne whispered, but Bog didn't respond. He looked terrible, his color had turned even more ashen, the dark circles under his eyes made his eyes look sunken. What was she going to do all alone out here? She had to find a way to help him, she had to know something, think of something. 

* 

(The night before) 

The small group, two elves and one concealed fairy princess had crossed the border into the Dark Forest during the deepest part of the night. They traveled for what seemed forever, the rain making their progress slow and tedious. Dawn was bowing her head under the strain of rain and her fear. Her thoughts kept wandering to her sister, her father, were they safe? Were they even alive? Dawn let herself cry while they traveled, her tears mixing with the rain; no one would notice she told herself. She had never been this scared in all her life, but at least she wasn't alone. Sunny walked beside her, catching her whenever she stumbled. Sunny noticed her tears whenever Pare would turn with the light. It broke his heart to see her like this...he offered her the small comfort he could of holding her hand. Dawn had given him a smile of gratitude, but had said nothing as they continued their hike through the Dark Forest. 

Pare held their only light, guiding them deeper and deeper past the borders between the kingdoms. It seemed to Princess Dawn that they had traveled for hours on hours, endlessly into the darkness, as if they would travel forever in shadows. By the time they finally stopped, she was so tired that she thought she might collapse. Sensing her weariness, Sunny reached over and hesitantly took her hand looking up at her with concern. 

“Princess?” he said softly. 

“I'm fine,” Dawn answered wearily, squeezing his hand. 

Sunny smiled. “It's all right, we're almost there.” 

Dawn smiled back. “Will you hold my hand the rest of the way?” 

Sunny blushed and nodded. “Sure thing Princess.” 

They traveled for maybe another hour in the heavy rain (the rainfall diminished after a while until it was only a light sprinkle again) until finally they all saw the dull light of what appeared to be a fire. Pare sighed. “Finally, come on guys.” 

They made their way closer, the light becoming brighter, until they finally stepped into a clearing. A small fire was burning despite the rain and around the blaze were three people; two elves and a goblin along with four saddled dragonflies. On the small fire the group had rigged a stand that held a small cook pot from which something delicious smelling was cooking. 

All three of the people around the fire jumped up pulling their weapons when Pare, Sunny and Dawn stumbled into their clearing. Sunny held his hands up. “It's us!” 

There was an intense moment as each group stared at the other until finally everyone relaxed. Pare laughed rushing forward and wrapping his large arms around one of the elves lifting the young elf off his feet. 

“Ditter!!!” 

“Pare!!” 

The two elves embraced. “Thank the spirits you made it all right!” The elf named Ditter sighed with relief. “We were beginning to worry.” Pare smiled placing Ditter back on his feet. Ditter was the same height as Sunny with hair so light that it seemed almost white. He had large golden eyes, dark skin and a wide smile that lit up his entire face. Dawn caught a glimpse of his clothing underneath the cloak that he wore. Ditter was dressed in varying shades of brown under his cloak. His companions were dressed much the same (though the goblin didn't exactly wear clothing. He was dressed in more of a leather apron minus anything that resembled pants, Dawn noticed). 

Ditter turned, keeping a hand on Pare's arm as he looked at the others of his group. “Mabel, Grot, this is my third cousin Pare. Pare this is my girl Mabel.” Mabel was a head taller than Ditter or the goblin named Grot, with dark red hair and chocolate brown eyes. “And this is our contact, Grot.” Grot was a slim goblin with a mouth that seemed too large and yellow eyes that seemed too small for his face. 

Pare waved. “Hey everyone. This is Sunny and the fairy Princess Dawn.” 

The two groups greeted one another (with a moment of confusion since Grot, Mabel and Ditter weren't sure if they should bow to Dawn or not.) Dawn simply waved it off reaching for their hands instead, before they all settled around the fire. 

“You three must be starved.” Ditter stood as Mabel quickly gathered up their used bowls, wiped clean by the rain. She handed the bowls, one at a time, to Ditter who filled them with something from the pot before handing them off to Grot who handed each bowl to one of them. The bowls contained a thick stew that smelled delicious, everyone agreed. Dawn's stomach made a loud grumble when Grot handed her a bowl. Grot smiled showing rows of needle-like teeth. “Eat up princess! I promise it's good, made it myself! Wild cauliflower and chickpeas!” 

Mabel laughed. “I promise it really is good. Grot's a great cook.” 

Grot blushed. “Daw, Mabel!” 

Ditter giggled. “Hey Mabel, no flirting with Grot—you're going to make me jealous!” The three of them laughed. 

Dawn picked up the spoon in her stew, blowing on the grey creamy liquid. She took a hesitant bite then smiled when the stew hit her tongue. It was delicious! 

“This is wonderful Grot!” Dawn grinned and took another bite. Grot bowed at the waist, genuinely pleased. “Thank you very much princess.” 

Soon they were all sitting around the fire eating. Sunny glanced at the dragonflies. “Are you sure they can get us to castle in the middle of the forest?” 

Grot spoke with a grin. “Trained these girls myself. They can fly faster than any other dragonflies and they are quick and easy to maneuver. Heck, they'll practically fly straight to the castle without you having to direct them at all!” As if sensing they were being spoken about, one of the dragonflies, a thin graceful looking one whose colors were a vibrant light blue, fluttered her wings which looked almost transparent. She made a little buzzing sound, bumping her head against Grot's shoulder. He smiled reaching out a clawed hand to stroke her head. 

Dawn smiled looking in wonder at the dragonflies. They had dragonflies in the fairy kingdom too, though they were used mostly by the elves, but Dawn had never had a chance to be this close to one before. “Are they...I mean...can I...” Grot smiled at the princess. “You can pet them. They all love to have their heads petted. This pretty little lady is Bluebell. That one with the greenish-blue wings is Lily, the tiny one there with the purple body is Lilac and lastly we have the dark green one named Gum; watch her though, she is a little temperamental, but sweet once she gets to know you.” Dawn stood up slowly. She ached as she stood, her muscles screaming at her to sit back down, but she walked over to the dragonflies. They all made soft little buzzing noises gathering close to her. Dawn, enchanted, reached out to touch one, then another. The dragonflies gathered around her buzzing and fluttering their wings, nudging her, wanting her to touch them. 

Grot watched with amazement. He whispered to the others. “I've never seen them act like that with anyone before...” 

Sunny was staring too, watching Dawn in the firelight as she laughed, the dragonflies nuzzling her and vying for her attention. Sunny's voice was filled with admiration and longing. “She is amazing.” 

Ditter glanced over a Pare with an amused expression. Pare grinned watching Sunny stare longingly at the princess Dawn. 

Dawn glanced over at the group smiling brightly, but then she yawned. Pare sighed. “We all should get some sleep. Even with the dragonflies, tomorrow is going to be a long day of traveling.” 

* 

The daylight streamed into the small burrow providing enough light that Marianne could see that Bog wasn't doing well. He was still burning up and she could hear that his breathing had become labored in the last hour, his breath rattling in his chest. Marianne was holding Bog's head on her lap having just come back in with the rag in her hand damp again. She was doing her best not to panic as she ran the rag over his brow, but she had to do something to bring his fever down. What she was doing so far wasn't working; the fever was killing him slowly. Marianne chewed on her bottom lip. “This is all my fault,” she murmured to herself. 

“If only I had...” Marianne squeezed her eyes shut. She wasn't sure what she wanted to say, what she could have done differently. All she could was worry about was right now. Marianne was trying not to cry, but she was scared, scared she was going to lose Bog just as she was getting to know him...her husband. Her smart, kind husband... 

She stroked his face memorizing the sharp features, the delicate shape of his lips, tracing his jaw with her fingertips. 

She whispered, “Please spirits, help me save him.” 

Marianne wrapped her arms around Bog's head pressing him against her breasts and kissed his forehead. She rocked him softly singing as she did. 

“I wish I was on yonder hill 

'Tis there I'd sit and cry my fill 

Until every tear would turn a mill Is go dté tú mo mhúirnín slán (And may you go safely, my darling) Siúil, siúil, siúil a rún 

Go, go, go, my love 

Siúil go sochair agus siúil go ciúin (Go quietly and go peacefully) 

Siúil go doras agus éalaigh liom (Go to the door and fly with me) 

Is go dté tú mo mhúirnín slán 

I'll sell my rock, I'll sell my reel 

I'll sell my only spinning wheel 

To buy my love a sword of steel 

Is go dté tú mo mhúirnín slán...” 

Marianne sang softly until her voice dropped to barely a whisper, her eyes falling closed in her exhaustion while she held Bog head against her breast. 

* 

Marianne found she was standing in a corner of her room, but it wasn't the way her room looked now. The room looked as it had when she was a child. As Marianne glanced around, a smile played across her lips as she saw things from her childhood. In a corner sat her dolls, all made from flowers, twigs and other little bits and pieces she had found, carefully putting them together to form little dolls to play with. She had dolls that her parents had brought her, but she loved to make her own. Marianne had made little swords for them; all of the princesses could fight, they didn't need princes to save them. But she had made one or two princes, all who followed beside their princesses, equals in every way. In the corner she could see the little doll house that her father had made for her...there were pillows of a variety of silken petal colors scattered in the room and the vanity was littered with the remains of her paints. 

Marianne's breath caught when she saw her mother sitting on the side of her bed, humming softly as she helped little Marianne to sit up and sip from a cup she held to her lips. 

“Now drink it all, Mari dear. This will help bring down the fever, now drink all of it, come on sweetie do it for Momma.” Marianne's heart hurt to see her mother. She was beautiful, it was as if all the light in the room came from her mother. Marianne remembered how her mother always smelled like roses... Little Marianne sat up in bed sipping from the tea and smiled at her mother sniffling, her nose stuffy. “Itth tastes likth summerthime.” 

Her mother smiled, her eyes twinkling trying not to laugh at her daughter. “It does, doesn't it? The summer sun is in the flowers and it will burn away the fever and clear your lungs. So drink it all my sweet little Mari.” 

“Wa isth it Mummie?” Marianne asked. 

“It's elderflower sweetie, elderflower will help burn the fever away and clear your lungs.” That was when Marianne's mother turned and looked right at her. “Elderflower Marianne. They are tiny white flowers that look like stars. That is what you want to look for Marianne, that will help save him, your husband. Now wake up.” 

* 

Marianne came awake with a start. She gasped. “Momma?” she whispered out loud. She looked down at Bog's head in her lap and smiled. “I'm going to save you Bog. I'm going to save you.” 

Marianne leaned down and kissed his lips, a soft tender kiss as she whispered again, “I'm going to save you my husband.”


	8. Elderflowers

The rain had started again while Marianne was out gathering elderflowers. Luckily it was light, but the precipitation still came down in a steady flow, chilling her to the point that she thought even her bones were cold. She had to travel further away from the burrow than she had wanted to, the whole time her heart pounding in her chest with worry while the rain poured down on her, soaking her straight to the skin, her clothing sticking to her uncomfortably and adding to the chill in her bones. The rain had stopped for a while during the night, but she had waited to leave the burrow, crossing her fingers that the rain would hold off. And then as soon as the light started to seep through the trees, the rain had started again. She decided to go ahead and risk heading out with the hope that the sunlight, despite the rain, would still be better than wandering around at night blinded by both the rain and lack of illumination. 

By the time there was enough light for her to work by, Bog had become that much sicker. His skin was more ashen and his breathing dangerously shallow, so much so that she hadn't wanted to leave him, but she had no choice; she had to take the chance. So she had built the fire up, hoping it would last while she was gone, and with a kiss on his cheek, Marianne had set out, alone, into the Dark Forest, hoping she would find the flower she was looking for... 

Finding and gathering the flowers had taken her almost two hours. When she had seen the white blossoms, Marianne had nearly collapsed with tears in her eyes, relieved. She had almost given up hope that she would find them. Deciding she had to search a little more in the direction she was headed, she climbed over a thick tree root and there they were, shimmering in what little light came down through the branches of the Dark Forest. But she couldn't stop to enjoy her victory, she had to hurry back, soaked to the skin, her arms full of elderflowers and an acorn cap that she used to carry them back. She dropped the acorn cap outside the burrow after dumping the flowers inside, letting the cap fill with rainwater. The fire was still going strong, which was a relief. One of her big fears while she was gone that the fire would go out, leaving Bog laying feverish and chilled in darkness slowly growing weaker and weaker while she searched for elderflowers, but luck had been on her side. Marianne let out a breath that she hadn't realized she had been holding. 

Bog was still lying beside the fire on the downy feathers, exactly where she had left him, but he looked so much worse. He hadn't moved a muscle, and she could barely tell he was breathing. 

Marianne rushed over to him, dropping to her knees and brushing her finger across his face. “Come on Bog, don't...don't you dare think about leaving me,” she whispered softly, and more to herself since Bog was unconscious.. 

She could almost feel the heat rising off of him before she even touched him. She laid her hand flat against his forehead. He was still hot to the touch, but now she could almost feel the fever burning him up, eating him up inside. His coloring was worse now than when she had left. He was such a pale shade of grey that it bordered on white, his skin becoming almost translucent. His body quaked with small chills, his wings making soft dry rattles when a fit of chills would take him. Marianne closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath through her nose then letting the breath out slowly through her mouth. 

“I'm going to make you better Bog. I promise.” Marianne spoke softly and ran her fingers over his face gently. “You just have to promise not to leave me all right? I want to get to know my husband better.” She smiled sadly leaning over to kiss his cheek. “I want to know you Bog.” She laid her cheek against his and closed her eyes, a single tears traitorously slipping from behind a closed eyelid to drop onto Bog's cheek. 

Marianne abruptly stood up. She moved quickly, stripped her clothing, walked to the entrance of the burrow, and wrung out the wet tunic and leggings (leaving her boots by the fire) trying to rid them of as much water as she could before hanging the garments over the branch Bog had hooked up just the other night by the fire. 

Marianne ran her fingers through her damp hair with a sigh before, naked, she stepped out of the burrow and into the rain again, where she picked up the acorn cap. She walked back in, shaking herself at the entrance before she headed over to the fire where she set the cap of water, close enough that the water would at least heat enough for the tea. She moved to retrieve the elderflowers and she then sat down by the cap, pulling the flowers onto her lap. Marianne started to tear the petals of the elderflowers, shredding them into tiny pieces, as small as she could, before dropping them into the water She then grabbed her tunic off the branch. It was still wet, but she threw it over the top of the bowl of water to trap the warmth inside while the petals soaked, scooting the whole thing as close to the fire as she dared. 

While she waited, Marianne sat back down next to Bog and took a deep breath, closing her eyes and reached out to take Bog's ever so slightly trembling hand in hers, holding and stroking his clawed fingers. Her touch seemed to ease his distress as his fingers stopped twitching and his shallow, difficult breathing, seemed to ease, if only slightly. After a few moments, Marianne shifted around, lifting Bog's head and positioned his head on her lap. She leaned back against the burrow wall to wait. The flowers needed to steep for ten minutes, at least, to be effective. She closed her eyes and continued to count the time away, her fingers moving slowly over his fingers, stroking the long digits gently while with her other hand she caressed the top of his scaled head. 

* 

Marianne was dreaming. She was looking up into the deep blue eyes of her husband, who smiled down at her and she knew this was a dream. Bog's smile was soft, a tender smile from a kind man. They were dancing, Bog holding her carefully in his arms as if she were made of glass. A crown of bronze with a large amber stone sat on his brow and Marianne could feel that she also wore a crown and without needing to see it she knew it matched his. She could see around them, images passing by the corners of her vision, their loved ones watching them, gathered in groups at the edges of the dance floor watching the happy couple. Marianne beamed. She was happy! She looked back up into her husband's sharp featured face. She was happy with him, to be in his arms. Bog smiled again, his gaze tender as he looked upon her. 

Marianne glanced around the dance floor then and smiled when she saw her mother watching them. Her mother was standing beside her father sigh her arm through his wearing that lovely blue gown that Marianne remembered from her childhood. her mother's blue and purple wings lay along her back go blend with the dress. part of Marianne's mind knew that was wrong...her mother shouldn't be here, but the dream was strong, tugging her back in, not letting her mind pull her back to consciousness each time she thought about the fact that she was dreamig. 

Dream Marianne leaned against her husband's chest. She expected it to be rough and uncomfortable, but it wasn't. Yes, it was slightly rough, but it was also strong and smooth. She closed her eyes enjoying the warmth emanating from him. She could hear his heartbeat and feel his breath in the rise and fall of his chest. She liked the feel of him against her cheek. His clawed hand came up to stroke her back then her shoulder, sending a pleasant shiver down her spine that sent heat rolling through her body, but then the texture of his claws changed. They hurt, scraping against her skin, prickling as if she had fallen into a patch of thistles. 

Marianne frowned. That didn't feel right. Bog's claws felt...not as prickly like that...they were smooth...warm. But this felt...wrong... 

Marianne's eyes flew open as she came awake with a start. She looked around in a panic, then screamed when she turned her head and realized that what she had felt had been the leg of a spider, a large wolf spider!! She scrambled to her feet, dumping Bog in her panic when she saw the two large eyes and four smaller eyes of the spider gazing flatly at her through the entrance to the burrow. The spider lunged when Marianne moved suddenly, her scream muffled by the burrow walls. She scrambled backwards, but her sudden moment only brought the wolf spider become more menacingly to life. That was when Marianne realized she had left the unconscious Bog exposed. 

Almost immediately the wolf spider's legs touched Bog and started to drag him closer. 

“NO!” Marianne screamed, searching for a weapon and then her gaze landed on Bog's staff. Marianne rushed for the staff, grabbing it and swinging the long staff around and bashed the head of the staff against one of the legs that that had started to drag Bog toward the fangs of the spider. 

The spider let out a hiss trying to force itself further into the burrow. The staff was a little awkward for Marianne to use, not just because of its length, but the heavy head of the staff caused the balance to be off as she held it like a lance. Additionally, she wasn't use to using something like this as a weapon. But Marianne was angry, scared and determined that nothing and no one was going to hurt her husband. Marianne let out a roar of anger. “AAAHH!!” 

She charged the spider, using the head of the staff, with her only thought bashing the creature or blinding it somehow. The spider hissed, rearing its legs up before lashing out at her. Marianne twisted the staff around, her wings spreading out as she knocked one long leg out of the way, but the other leg that the spider had managed to slip into the burrow hit her, sending Marianne sprawling onto her back, crushing her wings beneath her. She gasped, the air knocked from her lungs, her wings aching as pain shot through her back and shoulders. She rolled to her feet to see that the spider had dragged Bog closer. As if sensing something, Bog groaned, but he didn't wake up. 

“LET GO OF HIM!!” Marianne screamed. 

She held the staff under her arm and against her body, her wings flapped once before she charged, throwing all of her weight, anger and fear into the thrust. The head of the staff cut into the wolf spider's face, slicing through its fangs and into its head with a wet crunching sound. Viscous fluid oozed from the wound as the beast thrashed about with such violence that it yanked the staff from Marianne's grip. She fell forward, landing hard, her chin hitting the compact earth of the floor, snapping her teeth together painfully. As Bog's staff was ripped from her hands, it left her palms torn and bloody; the flesh burned as she flexed her fingers. Marianne could taste blood on her tongue as well. She pushed herself up, ignoring the pain in her palms and her mouth, raced forward, grabbed Bog's arm and hauled him back with all her strength to the very back of the burrow. 

The spider, with the staff still embedded in its head, disappeared from the burrow entrance. Marianne could hear the spider hissing and thrashing outside as she dragged Bog all the way to the back of the burrow, putting the fire between them and the spider. 

After a few intense minutes of loud noises, there was a sudden silence, which dropped heavily over Marianne and Bog. She tilted her head focusing her hearing, but there was nothing, nothing but the sound of rain again. Marianne held onto Bog's arm staring at the entrance, but nothing came back and only the steady sound of rainfall could be heard. Marianne slowly lowered herself down next to Bog. It was only when she was sitting did she realize that she had started to shake, the fear, pain and cold all combining to make her miserable. 

Marianne swallowed, tears running down her cheeks. “Oh Bog,” she said softly. 

She looked around and found the acorn cap, miraculously unspilled. She reached for the cap, looking down at it, she let out a slightly hysterical sounding laugh. If it had fallen over... 

Instead of focusing on the what if, Marianne leaned against the back of the burrow and dragged Bog between her legs, resting his head against her stomach. Marianne removed her damp, steaming tunic from over the cap and took a few deep breaths, calming herself as best she could, tears rebelliously falling down her cheeks as she grabbed handfuls of the elderflowers out of the water before (not noticing the red swirls that flowed and mixed with the water from her damaged hands), with shaking hands, she held the tea up to his lips. 

It took some effort with her hands shaking and trying to hold Bog's head up, his skin felt as if it should burn her where she touched him, but finally she was able to pour some of the liquid into his mouth. He muttered, groaned, his movements were weak, but he fought her. Marianne spoke softly. “Please Bog, I need you to drink this...for me—do it for me.” 

Bog's head rolled a few more times against her stomach, she could feel the jerk of his wings which were trapped between his body and the floor, but as with his head and hands, his movements lacked purpose or strength. 

Marianne swallowed back her tears of frustration and fear for him. She took a breath, letting it out slowly then she began to sing, more of a whisper of the words than singing. 

“I reckon I'm in a pretty sorry state 

with my heart being seized by sadness 

from the time when I left 

the high mist-shrouded hills, 

the little valleys filled with love songs, 

with their lochs, bays, and streams. 

and the white swan who stays there 

every day when I am hunting....” 

Her singing seemed to calm Bog. He settled, his fitfulness easing, allowing her to hold the cap of tea to his lips. Bog's eyes opened just a sliver, but it was clear he wasn't seeing anything, while Marianne continued to hum the song, holding the liquid to his lips. She shifted him a little higher, bringing his head to her breasts and cradling him there. She could see only the faint glow of his blue eyes under his lashes. He was focused on her, but not really 'focused.' She could tell something was pulling at his unconscious mind...maybe it was her voice. 

Marianne continued to hum softly urging him to drink. When she felt him swallow, the movement light under her fingers where they brushed against his throat, fresh tears sprang to Marianne's eyes. She nearly slumped with relief. 

She held him, making sure he drank every last drop. It was a slow process, some of the bitter tea lost along his sides of his mouth, dribbling down her arm, but she would not give up. Marianne would jostle him each time he started to drift off, calling his name to keep him aware enough to keep drinking. She continued humming, slowly forcing him to drink before she let herself collapse against the back of the burrow when all the fluid was gone. Now, only time would tell if the flowers from her dream would break his fever... 

* 

Marianne woke at one point to sunlight streaming into the burrow. She had slid down from where she was leaning against the wall to find herself pressed against Bog's chest, his arms around her shoulders holding her tightly. She frowned, not remembering lying down or how she managed to roll into Bog's arms, but she was too exhausted to think about her situation too much. All she wanted to do was sleep. 

She was about to close her eyes again when something made her jerk awake again. Bog's breathing. His breathing didn't sound labored, there was no rattle in his chest. She ran her hands up his chest gently laying her hands against his chest to feel the rise and fall before she pressed her ear against his chest, feeling that same rise and fall of steady breathing. Marianne was also aware that Bog didn't feel as if he were on fire, he felt...normal, cool. He was still asleep, she could tell by his breathing...but not passed out, actual gentle sleep. 

She carefully shifted herself in his arms, dragging herself up to his face. His features were relaxed, not pinched like before and his cololr was darker. He was still as pale as a ghost, but the color had returned around his eyes if only slightly. Marianne pressed her lips together trying not to cry as she reached up and ran her wounded hand along his face. He was cool, the fever gone she confirmed for herself once again. 

Marianne wrapped her arms around his neck burying her face against his shoulder and let herself finally break down. She sobbed into the crook of his neck until there were no more tears left. She fell back to sleep holding on tightly to Bog. 

* 

When she woke again it was to the gentle caress of clawed fingers in her hair, stroking slowly along her scalp. It felt so nice that Marianne tightened her embrace around the person beside her, unwilling to fully wake up, relaxing into the warmth and scent that made her mind wander to thoughts of dark forests, spice and cool foggy mornings. She smiled, making a soft purr before she processed what exactly was happening. 

Marianne opened her eyes to see her face was pressed against Bog's chest, she could feel his chin on top of her head and the soft tender caress of his claws sliding through her hair and down her back; the gesture was lazily and welcome. 

Marianne shifted a little. “Bog, are you awake?” 

“Aye.” His voice sounded just a little rough. 

She was aware that she was still naked, but for some reason that didn't seem to matter anymore...it wasn't important to her. What was important was the goblin who she held in a tight embrace. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked, this time shifting her position so she could see his face. He still looked pale and drawn, but his eyes were full of the fire that had been lacking over the last couple of days. 

Bog smiled softly. “Better. Thank you...thank you Marianne.” 

She blushed glancing down at his neck. “For what?” 

“For saving me. I don't know what you did, but it worked.” Bog surprised her by placing a gentle kiss on the top of her head. 

“It was elderflowers...tea I mean. I remembered my mother telling me once how it brought down fevers...” Marianne laid her head against his chest once more. It was better than acknowledging she was nude or that she was holding him tightly. Besides, hearing him breathing without effort was comforting. 

Bog huffed softly. “Yes...that's right. I remember my mother making me drink it as a child. Bitter stuff.” 

Marianne chuckled. Then an only slight awkward silence fell over them. 

Marianne hated to move. She knew once she did, this...whatever was happening right now, would dissolve into awkwardness and embarrassment, but this...this moment right now, it was perfect and she didn't want to spoil it too soon. Too much else had gone so wrong. 

Bog continued to stroke the tips of his claws lazily along her spine. Marianne relaxed a little more before she almost reluctantly asked. “Do you need anything?” 

She could feel Bog smile against the top of her head. “No, not now. Just...tired, weak...more rest.” 

Marianne tightend her grip once again. Bog whispered. “Close your eyes my sweet Marianne. There is no reason for you to move right now.” 

She did as he asked, smiling when he called her sweet. 

Bog hummed softly, the vibration moving through her beginning to lull her back to sleep. She barely heard the whispered words, his breath ruffled her hair as he sang, his voice hoarse, but the tender emotion rolled over her. It was that moment that Marianne was sure she was taking the first steps toward falling in love. 

“Where Lagan stream sings lullaby 

There blows a lily fair 

The twilight gleam is in her eye 

The night is on her hair 

And like a love-sick lennan-shee 

She has my heart in thrall 

Nor life I owe nor liberty 

With love is lord of all. 

And sometimes when the beetle's horn 

Hath lulled the eve to sleep 

I steal unto her shielding lorn 

And through the dooring peep. 

There on the cricket's singing stone, 

She spares the bogwood fire, 

And hums in sad sweet undertones 

The song of heart's desire 

The song of heart's desire.” 

* 

When Marianne dreamed this time, she was lying in a bed of soft moss, rose petals of the deepest red and cotton, soft cotton sheets. She was curled up in Bog's arms. She looked up to see his smiling face, his incredible blue eyes gazing down at her. 

“How is my wife?” he whispered in that slightly accented voice she was finding so appealing the more she heard him speak. 

“I'm happy,” Marianne answered softly. 

“Then may a husband kiss his wife?” Bog inquired with his smile spreading across his face. Marianne reached up to cup his cheek, guiding his face to hers, their lips were about to touch...when she felt the stirrings of her mind trying to pull her awake. 

* 

This time when Marianne woke up, Bog was still asleep, his arms were still around her, but loosely. She was reluctant to move away from Bog. Being in his arms was wonderful, warm. He smelled nice too she realized, but her hands needed tending to as well as their little fire which was now burning low. 

She carefully untangled herself from Bog and went to check her clothing. Still too damp to wear comfortably and it was still raining outside. Marianne walked to the fire, using a stick to poke the embers, adding a few more bits and pieces feeding it, growing it. 

She then walked over to the entrance of the burrow and stuck her hands out into the rain to clean them before she held the acorn cap outside letting it fill with fresh water that she knew they would both need She knew she needed to go outside and retrieve Bog's staff, but she wasn't ready to face the corpse of the spider just yet. 

She turned back around holding the cap, her hands now cleaned and stopped to see that Bog had rolled over onto his side watching her. She blushed, not sure what to do, cover herself, not worry about it now...she chose to go with the 'not worry' option. She walked over and knelt beside him. 

“You need to drink.” 

Bog nodded. “Aye.” She helped him sit up. He was able to help her, but he was still terribly weak. She shifted so he could lean against her. She rested his head against her breasts and held the cap up to his lips. He look a few sips of water which clearly exhausted him before sinking back to the ground. Marianne took a few sips herself before setting the cap aside. 

She frowned. “I wish we were someplace more comfortable for you to recover. You won't be able to travel at least for a few days.” 

“No, we need to start moving. We don't have food and only rainwater...we won't last. I can find us food and...” Bog started to sit up again, but he was clearly exhausted. He still looked pale and while his eyes were bright, they were also bloodshot. 

Marianne easily shoved him back down. “You let me worry about that. If you go out there you will only make yourself sicker Bog. Your fever just broke.” Her grip on his shoulders was firm. “Don't fight me because you will lose Goblin King.” 

“But...” Bog started, but Marianne gave him a stern smile. “Bog, trust me, I can take care of myself. And where food is concerned, you tell me what to look for, I can do it. Trust me.” 

He stared at her then nodded, his voice soft. “I trust you Marianne.” 

Marianne gave him a sweet happy smile that was ruined when she yawned, which caused Bog to yawn. 

“I think right now we both need more sleep,” she muttered. 

Bog didn't say another word, but he opened his arms in invitation. He had made no comment about her nakedness; he didn't stare or ogle her. Marianne smiled and laid down with her back to him wrapping her wings around herself. Bog rolled onto his side, spooning her against him and laid his arm over her. He pulled her close against his chest. He tucked his legs under hers, then Marianne wrapped her legs around one of his, wiggling a little as she became more comfortable. Bog grunted and whispered. “Don't do that too much all right?” 

Marianne's eyes widened and a deep crimson blush spread across her cheeks, but she also smiled as she whispered back. “I'll try not to.” 

Bog kissed the top of her head, his embrace tightening a fraction before they both settled down. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, they both fell asleep again. 

* 

Back at the castle Roland was having a fit. One of his men, a poor young man named Billie with pale yellow wings, had lost the coin toss and was now the one standing in front of the throne. He had been sent to tell King Roland the bad news, that King Dagda was missing from the prison. 

“I can't believe I'm surrounded by such...such...there's a word for it...” Roland waved his hand around trying to think of the word when one of the triplets standing behind his throne whispered. “Incompetence?” 

“Yes, incompetence! And don't tell me what I know!” Roland turned to Billie, rolling his finger around the front lock of his hair and letting it bounce back into a perfect curl. The motion seemed to calm him as he hissed, his fake smile in place. “I want everyone looking for him. I want him back...alive preferably, but if not, then dead—and I want the body brought here in secret...you know what secret means?” 

“Yes sir.” 

Roland scowled. “Yes...” 

Billie looked around confused until one of the royal guards hissed in a loud whisper. “Your Majesty.” 

Billie looked more than a little upset as he nodded. “Yes, yes Your Majesty.” 

Roland smiled. “Much better. Well what are you waiting for! Go!” 

Billie ran out of the throne room wishing with all his heart that King Dagda would escape...then maybe he could come and take the kingdom back.


	9. Carry Me

Dawn felt bad. Her sister and the King of the Goblins, her sister's husband, were missing. Her father was presumed dead, but Dawn believed he was simply missing too. With all of the chaos and turmoil that was going on, she shouldn't be feeling the way she was, but she couldn't help the feeling of absolute joy she was experiencing on the back of the dragonfly name Gum. She had never felt such exhilaration! Dawn could fly, of course, but she couldn't get to the speeds that the dragonfly Gum was managing. She threw her arms wide, using her legs and wings to balance herself as she let the wind flow over her, her hair streaming back from her face and her brilliant colored wings whipping in the wind. Dawn smiled brightly as she let all of her worries melt away for this brief moment of pure happiness. 

Sunny watched the princess with a smile. Dawn was amazing, he thought in amazement. With everything that had happened to her in the last few days she wasn't being cowed by depression or fear, she was letting herself find joy still. Sunny didn't think he had that same optimism, that same strength of character that Dawn did...though he so wanted to, wanted to show her that he was loyal and brave. 

Their small group had taken off at first light, and despite the rain, had made decent time so far, though as Grot had warned them, they were on the easy leg of the journey. Once they ventured deeper into the Dark Forest, it would become more difficult to navigate and they would also be dueling with the weather since it was clear that the rains had come early this year. Right now, however, there was a break between rain and a watery sun was shining down...for Sunny, the little sun that had broken through seemed to focus solely on Dawn. 

Pare (who was flying with Grot, Sunny was by himself, as was Dawn...while Ditter and Mabel headed back to the village) asked Grot to fly closer so he could talk without having to shout too much. 

Once they were within ear shot and Pare wouldn't have to yell too loudly to be heard, he called to Sunny. “You okay Sunny?” 

Sunny turned, almost losing his balance on his dragonfly. “Yes I'm good—why?” 

Pare grinned glancing from Sunny toward Princess Dawn then back, giving Sunny a significant look. 

Sunny frowned and, with a little growl in his voice, responded. “What?” 

“Nothing.” Pare smiled simply. 

Grot glanced upward, ignoring the two elves. “We should land for the day. There is another storm moving in.” 

Sunny frowned. “But...are you sure? We didn't get far, at least we didn't seem to....” 

Grot frowned. “We covered a lot of ground, but the Dark Forest is vast and dangerous, so we need to stop for now. It's worse in the rain, less visiblity and it's harder on the dragonflies. It's better that we're safe than sorry. Besides, the rainy season in the Dark Forest can be one of the most dangerous times to be there. We need to be careful.” 

Sunny frowned, but nodded his understanding. “I'll let the princess know.” 

Grot nodded, giving his dragonfly a gentle nudge with his knees and they took off, speeding ahead to look for a good place to camp. 

Sunny urged his dragonfly to catch up with Dawn who had settled back down, her hands stroking the dragonfly's head. As he flew closer to the princess, he could hear her singing softly to the creature. For a moment Sunny was jealous. It was silly he knew, but he would do anything to have her stroking her fingers through his hair and sing to him. Her voice was the most beautiful sound in all the kingdoms. At least that was Sunny's opinion. 

“Dawn? We are going to be camping soon. Grot says there are more rains coming.” 

Dawn turned to look at Sunny, her light blue eyes piercing him right through the heart when she looked at him, then she smiled which only made him want to with sigh with happiness. 

“Okay,” she acknowledged. “Too bad we didn't get very far, though.” Dawn sighed. 

Sunny smiled. “I know, but you know what? We will get there and I know we will find the goblin king and your sister.” 

Dawn smiled. “Thanks Sunny.” 

Sunny blushed. “No problem.” 

Dawn reached across the distance between the two flying dragonflies and touched Sunny's hand. He took her hand in his and gave her a gentle, reassuring squeeze. 

* 

Dagda grumbled under his breath. It had been far too long since he had ridden a squirrel and he hated to admit it, but his arse hurt terribly and his thighs felt stiff. They had managed to get a couple of squirrels fairly easily with Griselda doing all the talking, her face hidden behind the helmet. That woman was a wonder with words. Dagda couldn't figure out how she did it, but now they had finally made it to the entrance into the Dark Forest that she had been looking for after riding for nearly a day. They had stopped for a brief break and Griselda had surprised him by producing some water and rations that she had snagged at the same time she had been sweet talking herself into a set of squirrels. The rations were made from oats and sugar and tasted bland, but as hungry as he was he would have even found goblin food appealing. That was another thing Dagda hadn't had in years; soldier rations. He was beginning to realize just how out of touch he was with the fairies that served under him. He would have to recitfy that once he was back on the throne. He would put himself back down there with the common soldiers, get to know those men and women, take more time to know the people who worked the castle. He used to be good at that... 

Dagda flipped the front of his visor up on his helmet with a glance up at the sky. The rain had stopped, reduced to a slow drizzle. They had been poured on for the last couple of hours. 

Griselda glanced back at him. “I meant to tell you, but when I was securing the squirrels I heard your people talking; the soldiers I mean.” 

“Talking?” Dagda glanced toward her taking a bite of his food. Griselda had lifted her visor as well. They seemed safe enough at the moment, they hadn't seen another fairy in hours. They actually hadn't seen anyone in hours. Griselda pressed her thin lips together. “They ain't happy.” 

“They're not?” Dagda frowned in confusion. “I just assumed they had helped Roland...” 

“With Roland, they ain't happy about what happened, but they seem at a loss as to what to do about it. Roland had a few selected people on his side, and with the confusion at the party, I don't think half your men realized what was going on until it was too late. They want you back.” Griselda continued as she leaned over to stroke her squirrel, her two clawed fingers gliding through the squirrel's fur. “I'm telling you cause I think if you show up with a goblin army at your back to take back the throne, you'll end up with a pretty large fairy army too. I don't think Roland will be able to hold the throne. That little dwerp hasn't made himself well liked. What I'm saying is, he has the numbers right now, and the confusion 'cause it seemed that a lot of yer people think ya might be dead. Roland is on shakey ground. He's in charge now, but it ain't going to last.” 

Dagda frowned glancing down at his hands on the reins. He replied softly. “I want to make him pay for what he did to my daughters. The throne is second.” 

Griselda frowned. “Ye old fart. I mean, I understand...my boy is missing...I don't know what happened to him...if he's even alive, but yer a king—ya gotta think of yer people first...your revenge second.” 

Dagda looked over at Griselda, a miasma falling over him as he realized how selfish he had been. He hadn't even thought about the fact that the goblin woman had lost her son. He was so focused on his own misery. “I'm sorry Griselda.” 

She glanced over at him and smiled sadly. “I am too.” 

Dagda sat up straighter then. “We are going to do this together, take down Roland and seek revenge...after the kingdom is secure.” 

She smiled. “I know the noble thing to do would be to say, screw revenge! Worry about being a good ruler...nah nah...but you know what...I wouldn't mind just a little revenge.” 

Dagda snorted and they both laughed. 

* 

They had ridden nearly a whole day along the border to find what Griselda as looking for; a small section where the trees, vines and other vegetation seemed to grow and form an almost perfect entrance into the forest. 

As the goblin woman slid off her mount and stepped closer, Dagda frowned with a fearful expression on his face. It had been many years since he had been in the forest. There had been a time when entering the Dark Forest had been...well...fun. When their kingdoms had been friends and passages between the two had been just a matter of a greeting at the border. Dagda could still remember when he was a young fairy, long before he had met the fairy woman who would be the mother of Marianne and Dawn, and flying into the forest with his friends to meet up with a group of young goblins, all of them drinking and doing the stupid things that young people did. 

Dagda sighed, his thoughts drifting from his youth to his wife. He smiled remembering her pitching the idea of marrying Marianne and the goblin prince...It had taken a lot of convincing for him to agree to the marriage but now he could only hope that the young king could save his daughter. Griselda had told him as they rode what little she knew about the fate of his daughters. She had seen Bog taking Marianne and she thought she had seen Dawn with an elf...Dagda just hoped it was Dawn's friend Sunny. If it was, then he knew Dawn was safe and he could only hope that Bog also was protecting Marianne. At this point, all he had was hope. 

Dagda sighed and gazed at the entrance. The Dark Forest once again held hope—to reclaim his kingdom and provide the safety of at least one daughter... 

Griselda turned as she yanked off her helmet, glanced up at the sky then at Dagda, her voice breaking through his musings. 

“We won't be able to go far before it starts to rain again, but we should get into the Forest. We've been damn lucky so far. I don't want our luck to run out.” 

Dagda nodded with a grim set to his jaw. “I'm ready.” 

She smiled at him tossing her helmet into the long grass nearby before she jumped back up on her squirrel moving with a grace he would not have thought possible for the old goblin. She grinned. “Come on ya old fart.” 

Dagda snorted, but smiled just a little. 

* 

Marianne woke slowly and smiled without opening her eyes. She couldn't remember the last time she had slept like this, deeply, and completely peaceful, no, wait she could...her first night in the forest with Bog. He made her feel safe and protected. No, she realized, it was more than that, but she couldn't identify what the feeling was exactly, only that she was happy right now. She could feel Bog behind her, the press of his chest against her wings, one leg caught between both of hers. He was still breathing softly and peacefully. She could feel his breath ruffling her hair, which made her smile. She was relieved and happy that Bog was doing better, though she suspected that she was going to have a struggle ahead of her trying to get him to rest. 

Marianne also liked the fact that his arm was around her middle, his large clawed hand tucked under her stomach, his hold snug, but not suffocating. For a moment she wondered what her life might be like as his wife, to feel him around her every night. The warm protection of his body, to feel the soft ruffle of his breath against her skin every evening...to feel his lips on her mouth, her neck...her...Marianne blushed. She wouldn't mind it at all, not one little bit she realized. 

She smiled, content to feel his warmth, the regular warmth, not the burning heat of a fever, just the warmth of a living person. She shifted her position around trying to be as careful as possible so she wouldn't wake him. Bog mumbled in his sleep shifting his position onto his back. Marianne was about to sit up when she glanced over at him. He had one hand resting against his chest. The other, next to her, was lying out flat like an invitation. Marianne couldn't resist as she curled up against his side, resting her head on his chest. She smiled and closed her eyes. It felt “right” to be lying here like this, her head on his chest listening to the steady beat of his heart, the in and out of his breath. She took a deep breath taking in the scent of him, her arm going around his middle. Just a moment more of sleep, she thought to herself. 

She could hear that the rain had stopped outside which meant she should dress and head out for food, the acorn cap outside should be filled with fresh water and her clothing should be dried by now...she hoped. Marianne opened one eye in annoyance as the thoughts of what she needed to do washed over her. Bog needed taking care of, which she wasn't accomplishing lying here nestled against his side. 

Marianne stifled a groan and sat up. The light that was shining weakly into the burrow was a watery grey which meant there was a good chance that it would rain again soon. With a reluctant groan, she eased herself away from Bog and stood, stretching her arms over her head. 

* 

Bog woke up when Marianne stood up. He opened his eyes and started to say something when he saw the petite fairy stretching—naked—next to him. Bog's eyes widened a fraction then he swiftly closed them again, trying to pretend he was asleep, but if Marianne had paid attention she would have seen the deep blush on his cheeks and the red on the tips of his ears. The image of her, naked and stretching her arms over her head, the slight stretch and flutter of her wings behind her was now permanently burned into his mind...she was beautiful, he thought, the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. 

* 

She did a couple of sideways stretches before she walked over to where she had hung her clothing to dry. The chopped off remains of her leggings looked faded and there were long tears appearing in the fabric. She picked up the quickly deteriorating tunic/dress, noting that it also looked faded and worn. Fairy clothing was clearly not meant for such rough use, Marianne thought to herself. She wished she had something sturdier to wear...maybe when they made it to Bog's castle, goblin clothing would suffice? Marianne sighed reaching for her boots; luckily her boots were fashionable and sturdy. She smiled at her observation as she finished dressing. 

She glanced at Bog, watching him sleep. Her heart twisted softly in her chest as she gazed at him. He looked so much better now. His color still wasn't good; he was still far too pale as far as she was concerned, but he wasn't as frighteningly pale as before...now she just had to help him recover his strength and part of that would be finding food. Marianne chewed her lip as she fed their fire a few more bits of wood, running through her knowledge of edible plants. Marianne frowned...she only knew a handful, such as clovers, dandelions...Marianne grimaced with a shake of her head. Her knowledge was clearly lacking. That was when she heard Bog's voice, slightly rough. 

“I could help.” 

Marianne turned to look over at Bog to see him pushing himself up with on hand. He looked so weak and helpless Marianne thought for a brief second as she rushed over to help him to sit up. 

“Help me with what?” Marianne asked. 

“Figuring out what is edible.” Bog said softly. Marianne frowned, how did he know what she was thinking? 

Once she had him sitting up against the wall of the burrow, she hurried out and fetched the acorn cap, gingerly carrying it inside. She came over and knelt by Bog, helping him hold the cap to his lips and sip some of the cool water. His hands shook ever so slightly as he brought the cap to his lips. 

Bog took several slow sips before he leaned back exhausted from the simple task of drinking. 

“Thank you,” he said softly. 

Marianne smiled at him as she took her own sip before setting the cap down. “You're welcome Bog.” She smiled at him and for a moment the two of them stared at each other. Marianne dropped her eyes first, her cheeks suddenly a deep red. She sat down, placing the still mostly full cap aside and smoothed her hands over the ruined ends of her flower petal clothing before she looked up again. 

“Tell me what to look for.” Marianne gazed earnestly into his blue eyes. 

Bog frowned. “I just...I don't want you going out there by yerself Marianne. It's dangerous.” 

Marianne reached up and cupped his face with one hand. “Bog, don't worry. I can handle myself. Okay?” 

Bog frowned. “It's just...I should be...” 

Marianne pressed her finger to his lips. “Bog, not another word.” 

Bog frowned, but nodded, his blue eyes riveted upon her face with a determined expression. Marianne started to remove her finger, but Bog caught her hand with his, long fingers wrapping around her wrist in a gentle hold. He held her hand for a second and then he kissed the tip of her finger before letting her remove it from his lips. Marianne's cheeks turned redder still. It was such a tender gesture, so sweet that her heart squeezed in her chest. She glanced down shyly for a moment before looking back up. Bog was frowning slightly with worry in his eyes. His thoughts raced...maybe he had crossed a line, perhaps disgusted her with the gesture or maybe he had made her angry. 

Marianne could almost read the thoughts in his mind just by looking into his eyes. She reached out and very gently stroked her fingers along his jaw in a gesture of reassurance. 

Bog grinned with rosy cheeks. “Okay, I'm going to describe the plants to look for...vegetation we can use to make a soup or eat raw.” 

Marianne nodded looking at him intently. “I'm ready.” 

Bog smiled gazing at her determined face, the set of her plum colored lips and the intensity of her brown eyes and he knew without a doubt, he was completely in love with her. 

* 

When Marianne stepped out into the late afternoon light, the sky had just started to release a light, yet cold, drizzle. Marianne shivered, but then she almost vomited when she saw the dead body of the wolf spider. Nothing had come to drag it away yet, which she supposed was good because she didn't want something worse than the spider to find them, but she was not happy about the corpse being right outside the burrow. Her eyes shifted away from the spider to land on Bog's staff, lying nearby; luckily the rain had washed it clean. Marianne hurried over and picked the staff up with a smile, carrying it over and leaning it alongside the burrow entrance. Then, her smile becoming wider, she set off on her hunt for edibles. 

* 

Marianne had been gone well over an hour and Bog was terrified for her. The whole time she had been gone, he had tried to rest as Marianne had instructed, but he couldn't keep himself calm enough despite how exhausted and weak he felt. Bog just kept staring at the ceiling of the burrow or gazing at the fire. He worried himself to the point of making himself ill, his empty guts spinning and wrenching as all the possible dangers that Marianne could face out there, alone, came to his mind. 

When the quality of the light outside shifted to early evening, and Marianne still hadn't returned, Bog pulled himself up, wobbling and made his way to the entrance. He didn't see his staff anywhere, which confused him, but he used the burrow walls to help him balance himself to walk outside. That was when he saw the body of the wolf spider. Bog sucked in a breath, his first reaction to stumble back away from it, but at the same moment he realized it was dead. Bog was frowning in confusion when suddenly there was Marianne, stepping around the body of the creature—eyes averted from its corpse—her arms loaded with greenery and flowers. She looked tired but her brown eyes were dancing and she was smiling from ear to ear. 

“LOOK!! Bog!! Look what I found!! I found everything!! Everything you told me about!” Marianne hurried around the dead spider toward Bog, her face alight with pleasure at her accomplishment. But her smile dropped as soon as her thoughts caught up and raced pass the fact that she was happy to see him to realize he was standing up and outside the burrow where he didn't belong. 

Marianne stopped short and growled. “What are you doing up? Get back in there and lie down!” 

Bog, sagging in relief, did as he was told with an amused chuckle. “Yes Princess. You were gone long enough I was worried!” Bog protested in his defense as Marianne hurried up behind him and used her hip to herd him back inside, dropping her treasures in a corner and hurrying back out to retrieve his staff. 

“It's going to rain again. I felt a few heavy drops on my way back,” she muttered as she set the staff down and nearly shoved him back onto the spot where they had a makeshift owl feather bed. 

Bog sighed. “We're at the beginning of the rainy season in the Dark Forest. It's only going to get worse. We really need to start traveling again and soon.” 

Even as he said this, Bog leaned against the wall, slowly sinking down, exhausted, but not so tired he didn't ask: “Why is there a dead spider outside?” 

Marianne stopped her fussing to stand up and look at Bog. Bog looked up at her with wide blue eyes. She licked her lips before she carefully turned her back on him to start sorting through the greenery she had brought back with her. 

“I...it...well...you see that night when you were fighting the worst of the fever, it attacked. I had to use your staff to kill it.” 

Bog blinked in astonishment. “What? Are you all right?” 

Marianne smiled turning and moving over to crouch in front of him him. “Of course I'm all right.” She smiled gently reaching out to stroke his brow. Bog stared at her in clear astonishment. “You are truly amazing Marianne. I...I've never met anyone like you.” 

Marianne blushed dropping her hand. “Well, I...I just did what anyone would do, defend what's most precious to me.” Bog's eyes widened just slightly. He wasn't sure what to say to that so instead he pressed his lips together smiling slightly and looked down. “You...you don't have to say things like that.” 

Marianne smacked him lightly on the shoulder. “Bog...don't you say that.” 

Bog blushed, looking up to give her a grin that showed just a hint of his crooked fangs. Marianne felt that smile stab her right in the heart. It was the sexiest, yet most adorable smile. Wow, she thought, but then Bog whispered a slightly snarky toned, “Yes Princess.” 

“Ugh, don't call me Princess...besides, since we're married I'm Queen right?” Marianne giggled surprised at herself for laughing with the situation they were in, but talking to Bog, hearing him, seeing him smile...just made even the bad situation better. 

Bog chuckled. “I suppose you are.” 

She gave him a cheeky grin before she stood up going back to sorting their food. “You'll have to explain to me how to prepare some of these...” She stared down at them and muttered. “Well, okay—all of them.” 

That was the moment the rain started to come down again They could hear the heavy drops hitting the top of the burrow and the ground outside. Marianne's head came up. 

“Guess I got back just in time.” 

Bog nodded with a sigh. “I'm glad you did.” 

Marianne glanced over her shoulder at him sharing a smile. 

* 

It took a few minutes of Bog pointing at what sections of the plants were good to eat and what to toss as well as filling the acorn cap with fresh water (Marianne figured they might get one, maybe two more uses out of it before it would need to be replaced). Marianne moved everything closer to Bog to allow him to help her prepare their meal. Sitting side by side, peeling the stalks of some burbocks, Bog ask softly. “What happened to Cerridwen by the way?” 

Marianne, who had just started to pick the blue flowers off the chicory glanced over at Bog popping a flower in her mouth, then grinning, she leaned over and put one in his mouth. Bog looked at her in surprise, then he smirked and chewed grinning at her. Marianne grinned back in response, her nose wrinkling up in what Bog thought was a rather cute expression. She pressed her little teeth into her bottom lip blushing brightly. She looked back down at the chicory in her hand and continued to remove the flowers, placing them in a pile when she spoke. 

“I sent her off with the lower half of my leggings around her leg. I'm hoping someone will find it and maybe come to investigate. I mean, I assume she won't fly to the Summerfields...” 

Bog frowned and Marianne shrugged. “I thought it might be worth a shot. Stupid I know.” 

Bog shook his head weakly. She could tell he was getting tired fast. “No, no it was a good idea. And no, she won't fly to the Summerfields. She should head back to the castle...I hope.” Bog frowned with a worried expression. 

Marianne looked down at herself, her long dress-like tunic was torn, her leggings were in shambles. “At this rate I might just have to start walking about naked if I keep slowly ripping off pieces of my clothing for cleaning wounds and carrying messages.” 

Bog chuckled, but grinned a little sheepishly as he said. “You would look beautiful with no clothing on.” 

He glanced down shyly. Marianne smiled reaching over to take one of his clawed hands, squeezing gently. She could feel that warmth in her chest spread out to engulf her. She loved him. How odd she thought that in only a few days she was in love with her husband. Bog squeezed her hand back. He looked paler again and clearly exhausted. Marianne gave his hand one more squeeze. 

“Why don't you lie down while I boil some of these for us?” Marianne smiled softly. Bog started to protest, but Marianne reached out and stroked his jaw with just the tips of her fingers. 

“Please Bog, you need rest. I want you on your feet too, but don't rush...please.” 

Bog closed his eyes against her touch. “All right.” 

Bog scooted down, lying on his side. Marianne moved closer, picking up the their dinner so that she could lean against his stomach. Bog gently wrapped his arm around her waist which made her smile. She put the greens in the acorn cap by the fire, careful not to have it too close but hopefully close enough that the rainwater would boil. 

She started to hum softly, then sing, her voice just above a whisper while she poked at the greens in the water. 

“While you sleep, dream of me 

I’ll be keeping our memories 

Living in my heart and soul 

Waiting for the day 

When we will be together again 

Carry me to my love 

O’er the sea to the clouds above 

Where I know he’s waiting for me 

Carry me to my love 

O’er the sea to the clouds above...” 

* 

Bog closed his eyes listening to her beautiful voice. The warmth of the fire, the smell of the heating greens and his arm around her waist, her body and wings leaning back against him all conspired to ease Bog back into sleep. Marianne's voice carried him away... 

“Take me away to the shining light 

Over the waves peaceful at night 

There among the stars glowing in the dark 

You watch over me 

Smiling down patiently 

Carry me to my love 

O’er the sea to the clouds above 

Where I know he’s waiting for me 

Carry me to my love 

O’er the sea to the clouds above...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to add, if there are any inconsistencies in the story, I apologize since there was a super long break between when I started the story and when I picked it up again....:)


	10. Kisses

Marianne woke sometime during the night. She was on her side, facing Bog. He was curled around her, holding her gently in his arms. She smiled contently. Her husband was holding her, his long scaled arm was around her waist; she couldn't help the grin that danced along her mouth. She hated to move but she needed to step outside. For a moment she simply laid there in his embrace enjoying the warmth coming from his body, the slight woodsy scent of his skin, the texture of him. She reached forward and carefully ran her fingers down his chest, her fingertips tracing the overlays of his armored body, caressing and examining the contours of his form in the very light from the fire that still flickered lazily. 

She didn't really want to mov,e but the urgency was pressing on her. She squirmed slowly trying to be careful and not wake him, until she was finally out from under his arm. 

She stood slowly but then leaned down and pressed her lips to his temple. He murmured softly rolling onto his back. “Marianne.” 

She stopped, unsure if he was awake or still asleep. She watched him for a few moments deciding he was asleep before she slipped out of the burrow to relieve herself. 

When she returned Bog was still lying on his back but he was making soft noises of distress. She watched him for a moment, his claws twitching, head rolling one way then the other. She hurried over putting her hand to his forehead. He wasn't running a fever again but he muttered in his sleep “Marianne...please....Marianne...no...don't...go...” His voice trailed off as he rolled to his side again, his arms twitching, his voice a hushed muttered plea. “No...don't go...” 

Marianne smiled softly then scooted herself closer to him. She reached over and eased his long limb over her, setting his clawed hand lightly on her waist and brought her hands up to snuggle against his chest. Bog twitched a few more times before he let out a gentle breath, his whole body relaxing. She smiled contently. She could get use to this, feeling warm and secure in his arms...she smiled thinking what it would be like to wake in Bog's arms each morning, to really be his wife, but then she frowned a little, her thoughts drifting to Roland. She had dreamed about being his wife too...she had been so blind. Marianne frowned in worry, that had been worse than a disaster, a hit to her heart, but maybe this time she was seeing someone for who they were, not who she thought they were...She was scared to trust herself again, but Bog, Bog seemed so unlike Roland that she just knew he was different. 

Marianne grinned to herself closing her eyes. 

She had just settled down next to him when Bog whispered again. “Marianne.” 

By his breathing and closed eyes, Marianne determined that he was still asleep. Marianne gazed at him, the long sharp chin, equally sharp cheeks, and nose. He was handsome in his own way she thought. She touched his lips then leaned closer, closing her eyes and pressing her lips to his mouth. 

She stayed like that for a few seconds then opened her eyes. Bog was still asleep. She frowned against his mouth then giggled softly laying back down. She might have to try this again...when he was awake. 

* 

When Bog woke again it was still dark out. The fire was still going and Marianne was curled against him, her forehead resting against his chest, her little hands tucked up between her and his chest, her wings were wrapped around them both, the light from the fire cast through her wings creating a soft purple glow around the both of them. Bog smiled softly gazing down at her, the fires light playing across her features. She woke and looked up at him whispering softly, her voice slightly dreamy. “Bog, is everything all right?” 

“Yes,” Bog said gently. 

He tightened his arm around her about to close his eyes again when he heard her voice softly murmur. “Bog.” 

Her hand came up to caress his face, her delicate fingers dragging along his jaw guiding his mouth to hers. Bog was too surprised to resist, not that he wanted to as her petal soft lips met his own. Bog had never been kissed.  Not once in all his years had he ever kissed someone. He didn't know what to do. At first, he did nothing but let her press her lips against his own. Her lips were softer than the petals of a flower, they were the softness thing he had ever felt. He could feel warmth flood through his body from the press of her lips, the gentle caress of her fingers along his jaw. He was shocked she didn't yank her hand away from his prickly jaw and cheek...she simply continued to stroke her fingers against his face. Bog wanted to cry, wanted to smile, to sing...no one had ever touched him like this. But then her tongue, he felt the soft damp brush of her tongue across his lips. 

The stroke was thrilling, terrifying and extremely erotic. His body immediately reacted while his mind struggled to catch up. 

Bog eyes rolled closed and his mouth opened just slightly, the tender caress of her tongue felt like the sweetest fruit and he wanted more. 

Marianne wasn't sure, but judging by the way Bog reacted...she didn't think he had ever kissed someone. She almost stopped, almost pulled away, but his lips were warm and he didn't yank himself away from her. She smiled...she was his first kiss? Maybe? 

Marianne slid her tongue into Bog's mouth when his lips parted. His arm went around her, wanting to press her fully against him but at the same time he was scared. He did his best to be careful of her wings, his embrace hesitant. Her hand gently cradled his face, feeling the warmth of his skin against her fingertips. She didn't know what had possessed her when she woke up to see him and just suddenly kiss him. The last few days of stress, the fear that she would lose him just when she was getting to know him...and just...she wanted to kiss him and so she had done it. It was rash, but at this moment she didn't regret her snap decision. 

Bog's tongue hesitantly met hers with a gentle careful stroke as if he weren't sure what would happen when his tongue touched hers. Marianne stroked his tongue gently, slowly and Bog responded in kind. It only took him a few moments to catch on, before Bog was turning his body, leaning into her kiss, his tongue curling and caressing her tongue with more confidence. Marianne dragged her hand down from his face, fingers gliding along his neck then to his chest where she settled her hand, feeling the warmth of his armored flesh, somehow both slightly rough and soft at the same time. 

Bog held her carefully. She could feel the gentle touch of his claws against her back, under her wings. She smiled. He was just so gentle. 

After a few more lingering moments Bog pulled away from her lips. 

He looked down at her a sweet unsure smile on his face. Marianne stared up at him. He looked astonished. “What was that for?” Bog asked softly his blue eyes gazed at her tenderly, taking in every detail of her face. 

Marianne smiled gently, her hand returned to caress his face. “I don't really know...but it felt right.” she murmured. 

The blush that spread across Bog's face made her heart do a strange little flip and beat. Roland had always been so superior, so confident. She had ignored those negative features about him thinking he just needed her love to calm his behavior. Roland couldn't help it if he was so good-looking...which made people treat him a certain way...all the signs were there he now that she looked back. She excused his rudeness, his bluster, his...meanness to people lower than him as not being his fault, but now she saw that it was Roland's fault. He didn't have to be that way...he could have changed but he chose to act the way he did. Because looking at Bog—an actual king, who was kind, shy, awkward—and from what little she had seen, he was also beloved by his people, brave...risking his life to save her,  even now trying to get her safely to his kingdom in order to help her get her own kingdom back, which she knew he didn't have to do. 

Granted, there were so many things about Bog she didn't know, not yet, but...his heart was good...that she knew without a doubt. 

“I would like to do that again,” Marianne said sweetly. “I mean...if you're willing.” Marianne blushed. 

Bog smiled. The smile brightened his face, made his eyes sparkle which made her want to kiss him even more. 

* 

Somewhere else in the Dark Forest, Dagda and Griselda had traveled for hours. Dagda was dragging. They had traveled well into the night until Griselda had finally stopped. “This is a good place to camp.” 

They had stopped by a large fallen beech tree. Judging by the size of the fallen tree, it's horozontial position now was an accident. There were black marks on the wood that indicated that the tree had been struck by lightening. 

The tree had been hundreds, maybe thousands of years old when a storm had finally struck it down.  The corpse of the ancient beech created a perfect space for the goblin and fairy to camp for the remainder of the dark hours before the sun rose. Dagda sat on a thick branch of the dead tree watching while Griselda worked to start a fire. It was fascinating to watch her. She worked quickly and within moments, she had a fire beginning to burn brightly.  He had no idea how she did it, surviving in the woods were skills he had never learned. 

She sat back on her haunches. “There. Now I just need to grab us something to eat.” 

Dagda frowned. “There is nothing to eat out here.” 

Griselda turned to look at him with a smirk. “You really need to get out of that castle don't you?” 

Dagda wanted to snap back but instead, he shrugged. “Unlike you goblins, I never had much need to be out in the wilderness.” 

Griselda snorted. “Unlike you goblins? Racist much you old fart?” 

Dagda stuttered. “I...I didn't...” 

Griselda chuckled. “Just tugging your wing. I'll be right back, stay close to the fire, don't let it go out.” 

Dagda started to protest but Griselda had already disappeared into the night. Dagda watched her go feeling foolish and well...helpless. He sighed returning his gaze to watching the flames, occasionally gazing around him into the darkness. He kept thinking he was seeing shadows, creatures moving around in the darkness, but nothing came close. Dagda figured it was his imagination but that didn't make the shadows any less terrifying. He was about ready to go in search of Griselda when she suddenly appeared out of the darkness. 

“I have food!” the old goblin laughed. 

Her arms were loaded with beechnuts. She smiled. “There is still a grove of healthy beech trees just right over there.” She indicated with her shoulder. “We just need to roast these and we'll have some good eating!” 

She came over and set the beech nuts down just on the edge of the fire she had started. Dagda came over and helped her arranged the nuts then they sat back together. 

Griselda had just started to relax when she suddenly popped up again, hunting around for a moment or two before she grabbed a branch and handed it to Dagda, then picked one up for herself. 

“Just use the stick to roll the nuts over. It'll help make sure they roast all over and one side doesn't burn.” Griselda said softly as she rolled one of the nuts with the tip of the stick. 

Dagda did as she instructed, rolling one nuts then another.  “So how far do we have to go?” Dagda asked watching the fire flicker and smelled the beginning of the nuts starting to roast. 

Griselda frowned poking at one of the nuts. “Not sure...on foot...couple of days if the weather holds but since it's been raining...we might be able to do it in four.” 

“Four days...spirits so much could happen to the kingdom in that time, my daughters.” Dagda said mournfully. 

“You're right but unless you can carry me and fly, we have to walk. Though I have to say that for Roland...four days might do more harm to him than to the kingdom.” Griselda smiled. “That one, he thinks he wants power, but once he has it...it's not going to go the way he thinks...for him, having power is all about getting his way, having people love him and worship him. He's going to learn real quick, power isn't all about getting your way, that there's a lot more to it than simply telling people what to do. As for your daughters? I bet they are fine.” 

She reached over and pat his thigh. “I'm sorry Dagda.  I know that isn't what you want to hear.” 

“No, it's...it's okay and it helps...a little.” He smiled and sighed running a hand over his beard. “Just...I wish I knew where my daughters were...that they were alright.” Dagda closed his eyes, the pain burned behind his eyes and constricted his throat. 

Griselda scooted closer wrapping her arm around his shoulders. “I understand. I wonder if my boy is alright...he's strong, stronger than even he knows, hell he's the king! But he's still my boy.  I hope he made it back home, that he's safe. Your daughters, I bet they're strong beautiful young women. I'm sure they're alright.  They take after their mama but they also take after you. They're fine, I just know it.” 

Dagda leaned into her with a sad smile. “Thank you, Griselda. You're right, my girls are like their mother full of fire and passion...” 

He put his arm around her waist. “Your son, he's a good king.” 

Griselda smiled. “Yes he is and your daughters are good princesses.” 

“Marianne will make a great queen...” Dagda said softly. “I mean...if she decides to...you know...go with her husband when this is over.” 

Griselda smiled. “You know your youngest...she will make a good queen in her own right.” 

Dagda laughed softly. “She'll have the place decorated in flowers and every night will be a dance.” 

Griselda laughed. “Sounds kinda nice doesn't it?” 

Dagda smiled. “You know...it does.” 

* 

Grot had finished tending to the dragonflies when he came back over to the fire that Pare had started with the tinderbox that he had been carrying in his satchel. Sunny had his arm around Dawn's waist as Dawn leaned against him, her hands out toward the fire. Sunny smiled content to hold her. They watched as the goblin came over carrying a martebo sack over his shoulder which he flopped down in front of the fire. Grot sat on the old fallen log between Pare and Sunny from where he began to pull things out of the sack. Grot pulled out some dried strips of meat, handing them out to everyone, then several pieces of hard tack which he also handed out.  Lastly, he pulled out an extra waterskin. He fiddled around in the bag until he came up with a tin cup. 

“Aww...now we can drink water like civilized people!” Grot chuckled. 

Dawn giggled taking a bite of her tact. “It's like your sack is magic the way you keep pulling things out of it,” she commented around her bite of tact. 

Grot chuckled. “A traveler's best friend is their sack! The magic of survival depends on a good sack.” Grot grinned at her. “Oh, and speaking of magic.” Grot pulled out some apples and started tossing one to everyone. Dawn giggled nearly missing hers but Sunny reached out grabbing the apple from the air along with his own. Dawn turned to smile at him, her eyes sparkling, her smile becoming more lovely when she gazed at Sunny. He blushed handing her the apple. 

“Princess,” he murmured. 

Dawn took the apple from him, their fingers brushing. “Thank you.” 

Pare giggled. “You two are the cutest thang.” 

Grot gasped. “Pare shut up you ruined a moment!” 

Dawn and Sunny giggled, blushing, looking down at their hands while Grot and Pare shared a laugh. 

Grot stood. “Well, I got the bedrolls off the dragonflies, there over there in a pile so just grab one and roll them out by the fire. I'll take first watch.” 

Pare frowned. “I don't mind going first Grot.” 

“I know you don't but I'll go first, it's fine.” Grot smiled. 

Sunny stood heading to the bedrolls. “I'll go second.” 

Dawn chirped. “I can take one.” 

All three of the males turned and said almost at once. “Oh you don't need to we have it.” 

Dawn blinked in surprise and then her pretty little face transformed into an adorable expression of very real anger. “I can stand watch just as well as anyone else! Just because I'm a girl and a princess doesn't mean I can't stand watch. I'm not stupid or incompetent!” Dawn folded her arms over her chest glaring at each one of them in turn. 

Sunny spoke up quietly. “How about you take the third watch?” 

Dawn grinned. “That's better.” 

Grot glanced at Pare and hissed under his breath. “Are all fairy princesses like her?” 

Pare chuckled. “Ours are.” 

* 

Later that night, as Grot was on watch, Pare lay snoring on his side a little to the left of the fire,, while Dawn and Sunny lay in their bedrolls facing each other, their hands lying between them, their fingers weaved together. Sunny gave her hand a squeeze. “It's going to be alright Dawn. We are going to find your sister.” 

Dawn squeezed his hand back. “You really think so?” 

Sunny smiled. “I do. Your sister is tough and she has a goblin with her, not just any goblin, but the king of the goblins. I'm sure she's perfectly safe..” 

Dawn smiled at him, the light of the fire playing across her delicate features. Sunny gently tugged her hand over and pressed his lips to her knuckles. He slowly rubbed her knuckled back and forth across his lips. Dawn blushed watching him enjoying the warmth of his lips against her knuckles. 

“Sunny, no matter what happens...I'm glad we're together.” Dawn murmured softly. 

Sunny blushed kissing her knuckles again. “Me too.” 

Dawn sat up taking her hand back from him, then moved closer until they could put their arms around each other. Sunny cupped her cheek and drew her closer pressing his lips to her. The kiss happened naturally, the two young people were drawn towards each other with no hesitation on either side. Dawn opened her mouth, her tongue fluttering across Sunny's lips. Sunny opened his mouth to hers, his tongue brushing against hers. 

Their kiss quickly became more heated. Sunny's fingers pressed gently against her head, opening his mouth wide against hers, their tongues sliding and twisting together. Dawn made a softly little whimper of want. Sunny's hand glided into her hair cradling the back of her head, holding her gently while Dawn tightened her arm around his waist pressing herself closer to him. She nibbled his lips softly, her teeth brushing against his bottom lip.  The two young people pressed themselves together letting the warmth of their shared body heat and soft kisses lull them both to sleep. 

Grot glanced behind him, noticing the two of them kissing. He smiled turning back around letting them have their privacy. 

* 

In the relative saftey of their burrow, Marianne rolled halfway on top of Bog lying against his chest. She cupped his face between her hands, opening her mouth against his lips. Bog reached up to cradle her head in one large hand, his fingers weaving through her short hair, tenderly, gently flexing feeling the soft silken strands of her hair between his clawed fingers his thumb tracing the outline of her pointed ear. 

Marianne tilted her head up, her mouth demanding, catching his lips. Her cheeks felt flush, her heartbeat rose, beating faster against her chest as she continued to explore the depths of Bogs mouth in long gentle waves of her tongue. Bog's kisses were slow, gradually became more fiery, more passionate, his tongue twisted with her. Their breaths became more panted despite their slow pace but they were quickly gaining more momentum, their mouths became more familiar with one another. 

Marianne felt a building surge of warmth cascading through her body at the feel of Bog's tongue. His kisses became more confident, more demanding as he swept his tongue over her own, his warm lips pressed to her mouth, catching her lips or her tongue in tender tugs. Marianne shifted her position, fully straddling him, intensifying her kiss which earned her a soft growl, low in his throat from Bog. Marianne realized that she had never in her life heard a sexier sound than Bog's growl. 

Bog wrapped his arms around her feeling the soft, warm satin of his fairy bride against him.  Kissing her was unlike any experience Bog had even had...he had never felt this...passionate before even with the goblin he had thought he loved. His long sharp nose was crushed against her cheek, his tongue delving deep into her mouth, playing in tender passionate caresses with  Marianne's tongue. 

Bog's hands roamed down her back to her small delicate hips where his clawed hands rest. Her wings spread out over the both of them, casting a fractured purple light over the two of them. She pressed herself against his body, her own body was hot, burning...she needed...something, and judging by Bog's growing reactions he felt similarly, but it was too soon...maybe or... Marianne was't sure what she thought, only what she felt. 

Marianne caressed his face with one hand pushing herself up with the other to gaze down at him. 

The blush on her cheeks was bright and her lips looked slightly swollen when she smiled. “That was nice.” 

Bog's blush was just as bright if not a deeper shade when he whispered back. “It was very nice.” 

Marianne slowly slid off of him curling against his side. Bog, with a slightly drunken look, wrapped his arm around her giving her a goofy smile, unsure if he were actually awake or not, though any dreams he had ever had were never this...nice. 

Marianne snuggled close wrapping her arm tight around his middle. “We should do that again soon.” She said softly pressing her lips and mouth against his skin. She felt and heard the slight rumble when Bog spoke. “I would like that Marianne.” 

* 

Cerridwen landed on the doorstep of the Dark Forest castle instead of flying to the aviary like most of the birds that the goblins trained. One of the goblins on guard was a small young goblin with pale green skin who was leaning dangerously on his staff, struggling to keep his eyes open. His face somewhat resembled a turtle, with a curved beak. He was leaning precariously to the side,  his eyes nearly closed when Cerridwen landed right in front of him with a loud clatter of claws against the polish bark. 

Just as the young goblin was startled awake by the sound, Cerridwen went sliding against the wood and slammed into the goblin, sending both young (now very much awake) goblin and younger owl, skidding into the castle entrance in a bundle of feathers, goblin limps and guard's staff. 

Several other goblins came rushing to the front of the castle at the loud sound and squawking noise of something crashing into the castle, along with the Bog King's chamberlain Dallygrass. 

Dallygrass was a short rotund goblin with mottled greenish-grey skin and large clear green eyes and a crown of wild grey hair. He had been Bog's father's chamberlain and now serviced the last king's son. He was smart, well informed and terrified for the young king when the news of what had happened at the fairies courts had reached them, only yesterday. 

Dallygrass stopped, puffing a little when he saw the young owlet Cerridwen and several of the goblin guards, along with a few members of the household staff fussing over the young creature and a goblin guard, one of the new youngsters. Of the goblins fussing over the owlet, one of them, a tiny goblin maid named Mustard came hurrying over when she saw him. 

“Sir! Sir!! Cerridwen had this tied to her leg sir!” She held a piece of cloth over her head, waving it like a flag. Dallygrass came overtaking the cloth from her. “Thank you, Mustard. Would you see that the owlet is taken to the aviary and cared for?” 

She smiled her toothless grin. “Sure thing Dallygrass sir!” 

She hurried back to the small crowd and the owlet where she began barking orders. For a moment Dallygrass chuckled. She was going to make someone a good wife one day, or become the head maid. 

He looked down at the cloth that she had given him,, rubbing his fingers over it. It was clearly of fairy make....he knew that Bog had gone to see his fairy bride...but...he worried at his lip wondering what the torn cloth could mean. Judging by the stitch, this had been part of an outfit...a fairy outfit...He narrowed his eyes, then called one of the guards over, a tall skinny looking young goblin, who reminded Dallygrass of a young locust. 

“Go and fetch me whoever is in charge right now at the guard tower...I think we need to organize a search party.”


	11. Winter Came Early

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: SEX SCENE AHEAD  
> FEEL FREE TO SKIP OVER IT

Another day had passed, uneventful except for the kisses that Marianne and Bog would steal from one another. They giggled like children as they worked together, with Bog taking frequent breaks all through the day and the start of the next. She had brought back rose hips, more watercress and some wild onions, though her biggest prize that day had been some cotton pods. 

Now that the day was over, Marianne leaned against Bog, exhausted. His body felt warm, not feverishly hot, though she thought she detected a low grade fever. She would have to keep an eye on him, make sure he didn't overdo it tomorrow; she didn't want him relapsing. 

Marianne sighed with contentment. She liked the way he felt, the warmth of his body, the feel of his plating under her fingertips...the way he smelled, the sound of his breathing, the way he spoke with a slight accent, all of him combined made her feel a delicious tickle up her spine. She had never felt for anyone (not even Roland) the way she did about Bog. Marianne's lips curled into a smile. No matter what happened, she was happy that the events of her past had brought Bog to her. She was happy she had been married to him even if for the longest time it had made her angry. Now, the idea of her being married to him made her happy. 

They were sitting outside their little burrow gazing up at the night sky. Bog was feeling better, but he still needed rest; travel was just not possible yet. Anytime he moved around too much or helped her making food over the last day or so, Bog would quickly weaken and tired easily, his skin turning a pale grey and the sparkle in his eyes would fade, though he didn't say anything, refrained from uttering a single word of complaint. Marianne knew he was pushing himself because they needed to get moving again, but she was not willing to sacrifice his health to try to make their way to his castle. She would not let him kill himself in order to save her. Marianne's smile turned into a frown while she leaned against Bog. She wondered if that made her a bad person? Did it make her selfish that she cared more about his health than she did either of their kingdoms? Was she putting the feeling she had developed for her husband over the welfare of her people? But didn't Bog's people need him, and didn't her people need him too? 

Marianne closed her eyes; she couldn't answer those questions. What was the right thing to do or not to do? She would simply have to follow her heart, and her heart said to protect and care for her husband. That thought made her smile to herself. Bog was her husband. She was falling in love with her husband. 

Marianne took his hand and laid his claws in her lap, weaving her fingers thought his clawed fingers. Bog glanced down at her, his cheeks turning rosy, but he didn't stop her—he didn't want to. Holding her hand was...wonderful, he thought. 

Marianne smiled, enjoying the feel of him next to her, though she was deeply worried. Thinking about his inability to travel also made her worry more about his health. He needed a real physician's help, not some ill-equipped fairy princess; real care, real food, a warm bed... not some herbs and greens that she gathered or a bed made from an owlets down feathers. But he didn't complain or say a word. Marianne hoped he would be all right. She knew it would break her heart if anything happened to the tall, grumpy goblin. She smiled softly rubbing her cheek against his arm. 

Bog looked down at her, holding his hand...holding his hand! How could such a tiny gesture mean so much? Bog blushed. He wished he was stronger. Then he could get her out of here, get her to his castle and give her the army she needed to get her kingdom back...to fight alongside her, to win back her throne for her, with her... He would give her everything, his kingdom...his heart, and more. Bog frowned wrinkling his nose. It felt so odd to feel this strongly...he had been pretty confident that his heart was dead, dried up, but then his wife showed him that he was still able to feel, to love. 

Marianne's smile had returned as she lay with her head against his side. Bog smiled softly too, easing his hand from her only so that he could put his arm around her shoulders. He was rewarded when Marianne snuggled closer and wrapped her own arm around his thin waist. 

Sometime during the night, something (which neither of them wanted to contemplate) had finally taken the spider corpse away, which made sitting out here under the night sky more pleasant. 

The rain had broken and the clouds had cleared enough that they could see the stars above, though a chill had settled in. They both shivered. Bog tightened his arm around her shoulders while she tightened her hold around his waist. 

Marianne looked up at the stars in the clear sky, a sky that was almost too clear, the stars were so bright. “Its beautiful, Bog, but the chill...” she murmured. 

Bog nodded. “Aye. The first sign of winter. Soon we'll be seeing snow. I would guess in a day—maybe two—we'll see the first flakes. We should gather some fibers for warmth and some food for travel...” It was more as if he were speaking to himself than to her, ticking off a list of what they would need to stand against the coming weather. 

She glanced up at his face and saw that he was frowning up at the sky. “What is it?” she inquired. 

“Unless we leave now—and even then—I don't think we would make it to my castle before it would become too difficult to travel.” 

Marianne frowned as the impact of his words sunk in. “Oh no.” 

Bog's frown deepened as he contemplated their situation. He knew he wouldn't make it home in his current condition. Maybe in another week, if he had enough rest, the right foods, his strength would return much quicker, but as it was...he knew his limitations. And while Marianne might make it to the castle on her own, she could easily become lost since she knew nothing about the Dark Forest, and then she would be trapped in the forest...alone, with minimum survival skills and no knowledge of the creatures that lurked here. He could imagine all the horrible possibilities...the least of which was becoming hopelessly lost and freezing to death. Bog was at a loss as to what to do...what would be best for her, what he could do to help her, save her? He had to save her, had to know she was going to prosper because—no matter what may happen to him—he needed Marianne to be safe. Because he loved her. 

Bog hung his head. “I'm sorry Marianne.” 

“Sorry? Bog what are you talking about?” Marianne turned to fully face him, reaching up to cup his face, her brown eyes gazing at him with so much emotion that it made his heart ache to look at her, and it made him love her all the more. 

Bog hung his head in her hands. “I don't know...winter's coming and I know I can't make it to the castle. But you? You could, but I'm not sure...I'm afraid that without me guiding you...even if I just tell you how to get there, what to watch out for, let you take the staff...you could still become lost. I...I want to protect you Marianne and I can't...not right now at least.” 

Marianne smiled shifting around to sit on her knees in front of him. She grasped his face between her hands, forcing his head up so she could look him in the eye. Bog couldn't help but smile at her. Her eyes were beautiful, her face, her sweet bow of a mouth... 

“First off Bog, there is nothing you could say that would make me leave you behind...husband.” Marianne emphasized the word “husband” before she continued. Bog felt a little thrill in the pit of his stomach. 

“Secondly, who said anything about you protecting me? Maybe I'm suppose to be protecting you, did you ever think of that?” Marianne grinned at him. 

Bog grinned in return with a soft chuckle. “You've been doing a wonderful job as my protector. I couldn't have asked for a stronger, more intelligent and capable defender. Would you like a job as my bodyguard?” Bog lifted an eyebrow at her watching as a bright smile danced across her lovely plum-colored lip. 

Marianne giggled. “No, but as your wife...yes.” 

Bog smiled shyly. “Don't say things like that Marianne. Please. Once we reach safety, you may realize you don't feel the same for me. We're under extraordinary circumstances at the moment.” 

He said this softly with just a hint of sadness in his eyes and tone. His feelings for her had grown stronger in just the last few days and he saw no reason why they would not continue to grow; that both delighted him and terrified him. Would she break his heart? He had a feeling that if she did, that would be the final break before his heart would no longer beat like it once did, but he also realized he was more than willing to take the chance, willing to put himself out there for the chance to be with her...as he stared into her brown eyes Bog knew he was hopelessly in love, real, true, deep love and it would either build him up or it would utterly crush him. 

Marianne smiled gently, her delicate thumbs brushing gently along his sharp cheeks. She studied his face, her brown eyes roaming softly over his face, his long sharp features, lovely shaped lips and his extremely blue, bright eyes. The words came tumbling out of her mouth before she could think them through too much. Rather, she just went with her emotions. She would let her heart guide her. 

“Would you marry me?” she asked, her eyes hopeful. 

Bog blinked in surprise, completely taken aback. “What?” 

“Just think about it. You don't have to answer right way. Just...would you consider marrying me? It would unite our kingdoms, and it would make us stronger against Roland because he will fight us...” 

Bog frowned. “Marianne, did you forget? We are married.” 

Marianne dropped her hands from his face and pressed her lips together before she spoke. “No, we have a contract. I want you to really marry me. Bog...I mean...I know this is all strange and new and we have been thrown together under strange circumstances, but...my feelings are...” 

“Yes.” Bog reached out and took her hands in his, his claws gently touching her, careful of her delicate hands. He answered quickly before he could give himself more time to think, time to back out or be a bigger fool than he already was... 

“Yes. I will marry you.” Bog replied softly, a deep blush on his cheeks. 

“You, you would?” Marianne asked softly, searching his face. 

“I would Marianne.” Bog brushed the tip of his claws against the back of her hands. He looked down examining her tiny hands in his much larger one. 

He squeezed her hands softly. “I would marry you over and over again,” he said softly. 

Marianne greeted his response with a bright grin before she leaned in, ducking her head slightly while at the same moment tugging his hands, pulling him closer and pressed her mouth against his soft lips. 

Bog's eyes widened just a fraction. He wondered how long it would take before her lips being pressed against his didn't shock him so much...nope, he thought to himself, he would never become used to this beautiful fairy princes pressing her lips against his...no...never...then he felt the flick of her warm tongue...that would always shock him. Bog felt himself melt, opening his mouth to hers, his tongue greeting hers with passion. 

He relaxed and let out a soft moan at the feel of her mouth and tongue. Marianne wrapped her arms around his neck pulling herself onto his lap. Bog gladly accepted her, his arms wrapping around her, pulling her lithe body against his own. They kissed softly and slowly, the heat of their bodies helping to stave off the chill. Marianne leaned into the kiss, her mouth moving greedily over his, her tongue sliding and caressing until Bog thought he would melt into a puddle. She wrapped her legs around him, her hands coming up to caress and cradle the back of his head. Bog trembled slightly, carefully brushed his fingers up her back, the tips of his claws tracing her spine as her wings brushed against his arms. With one hand he ran his fingers through her hair, cupping the back of her head tenderly while he continued to kiss her. 

Marianne arched into his touch, evoking an unintentional growl from Bog. She was stirring the more aggressive parts of his nature. She pressed against him, wrapped her arms tight around his neck, her body rolling against his, pressing against him a little more aggressively. 

While they kissed, snow began to fall in a gentle, drifting dance. One large flake landed on Marianne's eyes making her jump. Bog jerked away from her mouth, then smiled when he saw her blinking up at the snowflakes. 

Bog chuckled. “We should probably get inside. In the morning, we'll need to gather some food...and more fuel for the fire...” Bog frowned as worry took over. He had thought they had a couple of days before the snow began. A snow already meant a bad winter was coming. Perfect, he thought, just what they needed on top of everything else. He had natural defenses against the coming cold...but Marianne? He wasn't sure what fairies even did in the winter, hibernate? But worst of all was that he didn't know what to do...and he was scared, scared for Marianne, scared that he couldn't keep her safe... but his thoughts were scattered when Marianne stood, took his hand and whispered with a blush on her cheeks. 

“I think we should go inside to get warm too. Shared body heat is a good way to stay warm, or so I've heard.” She said this with a little twinkle in her eyes. She held his hand and gently pulled him into the burrow. 

Bog stumbled a little as Marianne led him inside. 

“What?” he asked in surprise. 

* 

Marianne tugged him into the burrow and over to where their bedding was located near the fire. They had been able to improve their bedding a little today with some cotton seed pods that she had found that morning, creating a thick soft mound for them to lay on with the added benefit of warmth. It still wasn't the best “bed,” but it would do for now. Marianne led Bog over to the cotton bedding, tugged him down to his knees with her. They stood on their knees facing one another as their little fire continued to dance casting their faces in shadows. 

She blushed releasing his hand in order to reach up and caress his face. Bog swallowed nervously again. He had never been with anyone...unusual for a goblin of his age, but he had never felt ready. Now however, with Marianne...She stared up at him with those incredible brown eyes of hers, her plum colored lips slightly parted, and the way the firelight danced over her skin...Bog felt on fire, his groin tight, his palms sweaty. 

Marianne had never been with anyone. Not that Roland hadn't tried, a lot. But she had wanted to wait. Now she realized that had only been because she hadn't found the right person, the right one to whom she wanted to give herself...but now that she had found him, Marianne found she couldn't wait any longer. Her need for Bog, for her husband, was strong and growing stronger. 

“You,” Bog began. “We...don't have to do this Marianne,” he said nervously. “I mean...I don't want you to feel...” 

“Do you want me?” Marianne asked with concern evident in her voice. For a moment she was worried she had just embarrassed herself, that she had read Bog wrong and that he really wasn't interested in her or she was moving too quickly. She had just thought that since they were alone, she desired him and by the way he returned her kisses, she thought he wanted her too. And she didn't want to wait, didn't want to sacrifice any more time. 

“What? Yes, of course! More than anything!” Bog's eyes widened at his enthusiastic exclamation. 

Marianne caught her bottom lip with her teeth smiling gently. “We are married.” 

Bog nodded with enthusiasm. “Yes, yes we are...” 

“Then we're doing nothing unusual for a married couple,” she ventured huskily. 

“No...no I suppose not,” Bog replied with a blush in his face, though he couldn't take his eyes off of her. 

Marianne reached up to run her fingertips over his jaw then down his neck. Bog swallowed. He wanted to purr when she touched him, which was a completely silly reaction he thought, but he couldn't quite help the way he leaned into her touch, her fingertips guiding him. He started to say something, he didn't know what he had thought he was going to say, words having flown away with her touch...but Marianne leaned in. “No more talking Bog.” 

Bog grabbed her, surprising Marianne when he yanked her against him, his wings fluttering with a dry rattle, his mouth hungrily covering hers. She grinned sucking on his tongue, pleased with his sudden aggression. She wrapped her arms around him with a soft growl of her own. His hands slid down her torso and over her hips, snaking down her thighs. He slid his thumbs under her clothing, his clawed thumbs searching for that hint of bare skin to caress. She giggled, liking the aggression of his touch. She pushed back on his chest, Bog immediately let go of her worried he had been too demanding, too forward... 

He looked breathless and upset. “Did I...” 

“No, no, you're fine Bog. Just thought I might want to undress...these are the only clothes I have, don't want you to rip them.” She giggled. 

Bog blushed again, but he became quickly distracted by watching her, the most beautiful creature in the world to him, undress. Bog stared while Marianne removed her clothing, revealing every inch of soft creamy skin. It was like watching a night blossom unwrap its petals and welcome the moon's light onto its soft petals. She was beautiful before, but watching her, seeing her standing there naked in front of him, the fire's light dancing over her skin...the blush on her cheeks which rolled down her neck and over her skin made her glow. Her breasts were small, perfect rosebuds; her nipples, a deep red, were hard, as if begging him to suck and lick...his eyes wandered down the smooth planes of her stomach to the flair of her hips, the apex of her sex, the soft brown hair curled there, begging him to comb his claws through the soft curls, the thought of burying his tongue...Bog shuddered at his own animalistic thoughts. 

She was a perfect combination of soft flower petals and muscled strength. Bog's body ached, the need, the urge to bury himself in that hard softness that was Marianne...his wife...was almost painful it was so strong, but then she spread her wings. 

Bog groaned. “Oh, Marianne.” 

Marianne stepped closer, dropped to her knees in front of him again. Bog stared, his breath coming in quick pants. She reached out to run her hands up his stomach, staring up at him. 

She licked her lips. “Are you sure you're well enough?” 

Bog grinned lopsidedly down at her before her cupped face between his hands, sank to his knees, and kissed her. 

Marianne groaned as her arms went around his neck, pressing her form against his feeling the warmth of his body. She tugged him down to their makeshift bed. They clung to each other desperately, Marianne laid back among the cotton, her fingers caressing the back of Bog's neck. Her kisses were soft and sensual, her lips pulling tenderly along his own, her tongue sliding slowly with his tongue. 

He dipped his head, kissing her tenderly, passionately, nipping her lips with his teeth, sliding his body along hers, marveling at the different texture of her, the soft silk while Marianne gloried in the rough, yet somehow smooth feeling of his hide against her body. 

He brushed her lips with his tongue before he pulled away from her mouth blushing wanting to be honest with his wife. “I've...I've never done this before.” 

Marianne smiled rubbing her nose against his. “Neither have I. We can learn together.” 

Bog blushed again, but he smiled at her causing Marianne's heart to speed up a little bit more. He kissed her again, making a soft moan as he ran the tips of his claws up the back of her thigh when she raised her leg. He could feel the softness of her skin mixed with the lean muscles of her leg while her bare foot slid along his thigh in a sensual tickle. He pressed kisses on her chin, then her neck, his tongue licking slowly along her skin. He wanted to taste her, to feel the softness of her on his tongue while he dragged his nose along her flesh, taking in her sweet scent. Marianne's hands glided over his head and along his neck, finding the places where she could feel the softness of his unarmored flesh. She arched her back ever so slightly, prompting Bog to respond like she wanted, his mouth moving lower. His mouth was warm, his lips soft and his breath a caress, tickling the fine hair of her skin. 

He pressed his lips to the tops of her breasts, dragging his nose, then his cheek across her silken skin. He wanted to rub his face all over her, to feel every inch of her soft strength against him. She smelled like summertime and wild flowers, free and wild...his Marianne. For a moment he stopped himself...he had thought, “his” Marianne...he didn't want to possess her, he just wanted to love her, to know that she was his in that she held his heart just as tenderly as he held hers...he would have to find a way to express that in words, but right now he would express himself with actions. 

Bog moved lower when Marianne arched her back again encouraging him to move further down her body. He pressed soft kisses across her collar, then down between her small breasts, inching closer until he felt her nipple brush against his pointed chin. 

Marianne jerked. The sensation was delicious, the rough texture of his chin brushing across her sensitive nipple. Her hands caressed over the layered pattern of his “hair,” encouraging him with gentle pushes, letting him know without verbalizing that she wanted him to touch her. What he was doing was definitely keeping her warm, she thought, her whole body felt on fire! Her breasts ached, her groin ached, she needed his hands on her, his mouth...she even imagined his tongue...lower... 

Bog's clawed hands caressed up her sides, tracing the delicate lines of her ribs just before he worked up the nerve to flick a tongue out to the delicate bud of her nipple, his tongue brushing over the surface leaving a warm wet trail of saliva. 

Marianne's reaction was immediate. She gasped, pressing his head to her breasts. Bog smiled, encouraged by her reaction. He gently traced her nipple with the tip of his tongue. Marianne whimpered in response to his touch. Bog pressed his lips to her sensitive nipple, then tugged with his lips being careful, yet aggressive. 

Marianne's whole body responsed, the flash of wet heat flooded between her legs, her groin tightened with the need for him to touch her more. 

Bog covered her nipple with his mouth, sucking tenderly, his tongue flicking and swirling around her nipple until Marianne was arching, gasping with pleasure, her fingers pressing into his scalp with each heated gasp. Never had she felt anything so good as his mouth on her breasts. Bog switched breasts, sliding one hand down her stomach until he brushed the soft curls at her sex with just the tips of his claws. Bog wanted to touch her...desperately...wanted to stroke that secret place between her legs, to hear her cry out with pleasure at his touch, to make his wife climax. He wanted to climb on top of her and give into his urges which were telling him to take her, to bury himself inside her, to ease the pain in his groin, to be enveloped in her softness, her scent, and for them to be one, joined together. But he hesitated. 

Marianne groaned. Her body writhed with pleasure as he sucked on one breast before switching to suck the other. She was aching for him to touch her more. She felt so wanton, lustful, needy, feelings she had never had before...it was all so wild! She needed something...she wasn't even sure what it was that she needed, but it was driving her crazy not to have it and she knew Bog could give it to her, she wanted it...this mysterious “thing” from Bog and only him. 

When Bog started to stroke the tips of his claws through the hair of her sex, caressing, teasing gently, the very tips of his claws caressing her skin sending shivers of delight up her spine, Marianne spread her legs in response, hoping he would understand, hoping he instinctively knew what it was she wanted that she didn't know how to put into words. Bog growled with need. His erection was tucked close to his body, hurting because he was hard. In frustration he bit down on the side of her breast unintentionally, sucking again, his frustration at his own desire building until his body burned countered by his fear he would do something wrong, something to hurt his fairy lover. He would die if he ever hurt her! 

Marianne gasped when he bit her, but she didn't stop him, didn't shove him away. Instead she was a little shocked at herself because she found that she liked it; her response was to thrust her hips toward his hand, the strange building ache even more demanding than before. 

Bog groaned, letting nature tell him what to do...he slid his long, clawed fingers down between her legs where he felt the warm heat of her. He carefully slid his finger between her folds, dipping into the warm wetness of her, stroking up, then down tenderly, lovingly, while his long middle finger carefully dipped into her, feeling the way her body tightened around his finger, pulling him. He leaned up to recapture her mouth, kissing her passionately while at the same time gently sliding his clawed finger into her. Marianne cried out the instant he touched her. She had always imagined what it might be like, but clearly, she thought to herself, her imagination was lacking because his touch was nothing like she imagined being touched would be like...it was a million times better! There was no way her imagination could ever have prepared her. 

When Bog rose up to kiss her, Marianne grabbed his shoulders and returned his kiss with just as much passion, her tongue caressing, soft and gentle, then alternating with something more feral; love and lust mixed in equal parts. She made passionate grunts, groans and gasps thrusting her hips against his long finger until that tightening in her groin became unbearable, and with a burst of sensation, she climaxed. Marianne had had orgasms before, all through self-stimulation, but she had never been with anyone. Roland, even when she was going to marry him, had never been allowed to touch her more than a brush of his hand against her chest over her flowered clothing. She hadn't wanted him to touch her, always reasoning it was because she wanted to wait until they were married. But now she knew it was because she hadn't been fully “in love” with him, just infatuated. This—this moment...this...she didn't know if it was because she was falling in love, or that Bog was a goblin...or a wonderful combination of both...Either way, she climaxed and Marianne would swear she saw stars. 

“OH BOG!” Marianne arched her hips and let out a loud cry. 

Bog growled in response to her, the little sounds she made, the way her body responded to him, her hips thrusting onto his finger, all combined to drive him wild with need, but when he had felt her climax, his fingers suddenly awash in warm, slick liquid, and acculmation in his wife's panting, moaning of his name...for and because of him. He had never once in all his life felt this happy with himself. He had done something beautiful for her. But her climax also had him fighting for control of himself. 

His aggression boiled to the surface, his body making demands that his mind wasn't quite ready to pursue. It was as if he liked to torture himself, he thought, but struggled to hold himself in check. In response, his animalistic urges gave him another idea...he wanted to taste her and he wanted to thrust himself into her soft, liquid body, to feel that intense heat of hers wrapped around him, her arms around his neck, her fingers digging into his hide...he didn't let his hesitation hold him back for another second more. Bog gave in to his desire, pulling his finger away from her. 

Marianne let out a whimper of disappointment, but before she could say anything, her husband had dropped down between her legs. He shoved her legs up, spreading them at the same time, exposing all of her to him. Marianne made a tiny sound of surprise and despite him having brought her to climax, having herself so exposed had her blushing. Bog stared for just a second, then growled in appreciation at how beautiful she was...every part of her, every inch like a flower, before he settled himself between her legs and began to slowly lick and explore her with his tongue, wrapping his arms around her hips. He growled gently. She tasted like clover honey and something indescribable, but all Marianne. He grinned, delving deeper, all his senses surrounded with her. Bog purred. 

Marianne rested her toes against his shoulders and reached down to caress his brow when she felt Bog purr; it was a low deep sound that rumbled past his lips to communicate over her when he licked her. She whimpered with delight. 

She hadn't been expecting it at all. She had heard about such things, but...Marianne groaned reaching down to stroke her fingers over Bog's scaled head. She looked down to see his attention completely on her. Bog rolled his head from side to side slowly, kissing her in the most intimate way possible, the sensation of which caused her toes to point, a deep thrill of pleasure raced up her spine until Marianne couldn't contain it. 

Bog licked her attentively, his tongue almost immediately finding the right place to twirl and explore, the perfect place to suck deeply on her, mouthing her gently. He didn't rush, he was slow and careful, taking his time to appreciate every inch of her that he covered with his tongue. His long clawed fingers reached around her, playing with the small triangle of curls while he licked and sucked before using his fingers to spread her wider and allow his tongue to slip and slide across her. 

Marianne's eyes crossed. She began to pant, rocking into his attentions. Bog was doing something to her she had only read about or heard stories from other young fairies, but she had never really thought couples did that. But now...Marianne gasped when he licked with particular enthusiasm. She came with a cry, falling over the edge only to begin climbing the mountain again. 

Bog sucked more forcefully. He knew he had her close again, so he continued to pull her toward another orgasm, enjoying every part of her, the way her fingers gripped him, her toes pointed. He smiled against his fairy bride enjoying the pleasure he was giving her and when his fairy bride climaxed Bog felt powerful and happy that he could do such things to such a beautiful fairy, that she enjoyed what he did and wanted more. 

Marianne whimpered, “Bog..oh Bog, please.” 

Bog rose up from between her legs. He grinned pleased with himself, his mouth and chin damp with her, but what drew Marianne's attention was his smile. He had the most sexy smile on his face, clearly pleased with himself, but combined with the look of admiration and love in his eyes. Spirits! She wanted him and she loved him. 

Bog gazed at his wife, lying on her back, propped on her elbows, her legs spread, her wings under her and spread out, messy hair... 

Marianne purred. “Come here Bog.” 

Bog groaned reaching down to touch himself, urging the natural armor to part to allow him to release himself. He was so excited by her that it was almost difficult, maybe even a little painful. His body was held so tightly in anticipation that he hissed when his member was exposed to the mix of cool and warm air in the burrow. 

Marianne watched intently, the way his body's natural shielding shifted, the dark color of his erection, just how vulnerable yet powerful he looked. Her body was immediately tightening in anticipation. 

Bog dropped down to balance himself on one hand, while with the other hand he tenderly rubbed the back of his fingers along her cheek. 

His voice was a lustful whisper tempered by the depth of his emotions. “I didn't think coming here to your kingdom I would find you...” 

“Who did you think you would find?” Marianne asked reaching up to run the tip of her finger along his damp bottom lip. 

He smiled. “Someone else entirely.” 

He shifted position, then slowly, carefully even, he slid himself inside her. Bog groaned laying his forehead against hers. The feeling of pressing into her body, not just the physical sensation of their bodies coming together made him pause, but the melding of their very being, two souls coming together...the intensity was almost too much, but it was the feelings that he felt for her, that spark of love growing, enveloping him that made the joining that much more intense. 

Bog moaned softly. “Marianne...ugh...I...love you.” 

Marianne groaned holding on to Bog's shoulders as he stretched her, filled her. She wrapped her legs around his narrow hips, sliding her feet down the back of his thighs, her hips thrusting up to meet his gentle thrust. 

She shuddered with a gentle hiss. “Oh Bog, I love you too.” 

Bog cradled her head with his large hands kissing her softly, his mouth and tongue sweet presses and strokes while his hips pressed his erection deep inside her and held without moving further once he was buried inside. He didn't move, he just waited, giving her time to adjust to him letting her tell him when to move. His body trembled with the effort. He had imagined having sex with someone he loved, but it paled to this, to what he was sharing with her. He had thought he would never find love, but now...like a dream, here she was, their bodies connected...a wave of intensity rolled over him. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, the feeling almost too much. 

Marianne, her eyes closed, sucked on her bottom lip, her muscles contracting around him and sending vibrations of pleasure through her. He felt good, very good. Again, nothing like what she expected, better than she had ever hoped. She opened her eyes slowly to gaze at Bog, seeing his eyes closed, the intensity of his expression. He was waiting for her, she realized. He wasn't moving because he was waiting. 

“Oh Bog,” Marianne murmured, her voice husky. 

Bog opened his eyes. “Marianne? I'm not hurting you, am I?” 

She smiled. “No, please don't stop.” 

She cupped his face in her hands and started to thrust her hips, urging him. Bog groaned and started to move, thrusting his pelvis gently at first, deliberately careful. She felt so good surrounding him, accepting him...loving him. He reached around to take one of her thighs and wrap his arm around her leg, moving her limb forward against her body which allowed him to push even deeper inside her. 

Marianne groaned loudly, pressing her hands into Bog's shoulders. She hissed at him. “Faster Bog, please.” 

Together they began to move as one, both of them letting the fears drift away that they might hurt one another. They kissed passionately, sharing breath, sharing their moans of pleasure staring at each other. Bog felt the moment that Marianne came, the way her body tightened around his member, the flood of fluid warm, and her hands gripping him hard. The ripple of her pleasure, the groans against his lips, the sounds of their bodies coming together had Bog struggling to breathe, he thrust deep and slow, only going faster when she begged. 

“Ohh Bog, harder!” Marianne didn't care how she sounded; she only wanted him to take her to the edge and let her explode. He obeyed her commands, his thrusts coming in firmer, the wet sounds of their bodies meeting, and then she felt him swell inside her. 

Marianne let out a cry, her whole body tensing as his orgasm burst over her and flowed around her, pulling her along and pushing her higher until she nearly bowed under him. 

Bog growled, he dropped his head to her neck trying to keep up a good speed, but at the same time feeling himself on the verge of losing control of himself. Marianne's orgasm rippled through her. He had experienced her last two climaxes, but not like this, not embedded inside her. Her body grabbed him and held on, pulling his orgasm from him. Bog cried out, thrusting hard and fast, pounding into her soft creamy body like he couldn't stop. His orgasm ripped from him, his cry of pleasure muffled against the side of her neck and shoulder. 

* 

Later they both lay by the fire, still naked, curled against each other. Marianne was lying on her stomach facing the flames, a contented smile on her face. Bog lay on his side beside her, holding himself up on one elbow. He kissed her shoulder while he stroked her back with his claws, delicately brushing his claws back and forth on her pale skin occassionally tickling the edge of her wings. He smiled happily. He could tell he was putting her to sleep while he stroked her skin. 

“After we take back my kingdom, I think we should have another wedding, a proper one,” Marianne said sleepily. 

Bog smiled. “Yes. I agree. Maybe on the border of our two kingdoms? Appropriately symbolic?” 

Marianne smiled dreamily with a slight nod. “I like that.” 

“Maybe during winter solstice...I believe that's soon...in a week or two,” Bog murmured lazily kissing her shoulder, then the back of her neck. 

Marianne grinned taking long blinks as she melted into her husband's touch. “How do goblins celebrate solstice?” 

Bog chuckled laying his cheek against her back. “Usually with a lot of drinking, good food and dancing. There are a few royal ceremonies, duties I have to perform, but nothing too serious. No one wants to spend a lot of time on serious things where there's mead, beer and wine, not to mention all the food. There is also dice, or soule.” 

“What's soule?” Marianne asked with her eyes closed. 

Bog chuckled. “It's a game: two groups of goblins face off competing for possession of a large block of wood or a moss-filled leather ball. The “ball” can be propelled by being punched with the fist, kicked, or struck with curved sticks. All blows are allowed, pretty much the only rule is there are no rules. Usually everyone is drunk and they completely forget about the ball in a effort to beat each other silly.” 

Marianne laughed. “Are you serious?” 

“Yes I am. Last year my mother whacked my chamberlain in the face, broke his nose.” Bog laughed. 

Marianne smiled giggling softly and shifted her position, rolling over to face her husband. 

“Fairies have a lot of drinking and food too at solstice, though our games are a little less violent. Oh and there is lots of dancing,” she said with a grin. 

Bog chuckled. “I have a feeling drunk fairies are vastly different and less destructive than drunk goblins.” 

Marianne giggled. “I bet. Drunk fairies usually end up running around naked and taking stupid dares to run outside in the cold. There is nothing sillier than a naked fairy in the snow. Someone always has to go out and drag them back in before they lose a wing.” 

Bog frowned a laugh in his eyes. “Well, maybe not too different then.” 

They laughed together. Bog cupped her face and kissed her tenderly. “Close your eyes, my sleepy fairy princess.” 

Marianne snuggled in close to him and Bog wrapped his arm around her. She whispered against his chest. “Aren't I a fairy queen as your wife?” 

Bog chuckled. “Aye, you are. Good night, my fairy queen.” 

Marianne smiled contently. 

* 

The next afternoon, using his claws, Bog shredded the rose hips she had found the day before, putting them in an acorn cap with some water to boil. Marianne glanced over watching Bog work. His blue eyes were intense, his long nose wrinkled up while he carefully worked on the rose hips. The whole scene was rather domestic she thought and sweet the way he was sitting cross-legged working intently at his task. It made her heart swell glancing at her husband, watching the way he wrinkled his long pointed nose doing his best to be careful with his long sharp claws, his wings spread around him, occassionly fluttering in annoyance. The rose hips laying on a large leaf on his lap while he shreded them and transferred the parts to the cap. Marianne swallowed. She hadn't realized what real love felt like until now. It was wonderful. 

Bog glanced up, their eyes meeting. He smiled at her, the most charming and endearing smile and her heart twisted again. 

She was worried about him. There had been a little accumulation of snow outside, but luckily not a great deal, which gave them more time to gather supplies. But Marianne was sure it was only a slight reprieve before winter hit them hard. Not only was she worried about the damage an early winter could do to both their wings, but Bog's recovery wasn't complete. She felt a stab in her heart. He was still frail and he needed real care or a relapse was a real fear. He had gone with her to hunt for supplies this morning, but by the time they had returned he wasn't doing well. A nap and a little food had revived him, but with the cold coming, it would be difficult at best, and at worst, she didn't want to think about that. She knew she could protect him from spiders and anything else that tried to hurt them, but she—and Bog, were defenseless against the weather. 

* 

Sunny was flying behind Grot with Dawn flying beside him, all of them going as fast as the poor dragonflies could go; the little creatures were zipping through the Dark Forest as best they could but as they flew, the forest became thicker and more difficult to navigate. The chill in the air was beginning to affect the dragonflies' wings. Grot had been upset when the cold front had come in last night, accompanied by a little snow. Sunny hadn't seen what the big deal was at first. For the elves, winter was just another season. He knew the fairies usually stayed inside all winter while the elves simply carried on with business as usual. It had never occurred to Sunny how winter might affect creatures with wings like the dragonflies. He knew that Dawn and the other fairies never came out in the winter and he knew that the cold was bad for their wings, but it simply hadn't occurred to him just how bad it could be until Grot (and Dawn) explained how delicate wings were and that with the temperature dropping the dragonflies (and Dawn) were in danger of their wings freezing and breaking. He felt foolish for being so ignorant about the whole situation. But now he was starting to feel the same panic that Grot was feeling. 

Their little group had taken off early and they had been flying without a break ever since. Everyone was exhausted, but Grot wanted to push their little group as far as he could; hoping that maybe they could cut the distance they still needed to travel in half. He had warned Sunny that they wouldn't be able to go very far once the cold tempatures settled in. 

They had been flying for hours without a break. There was a chill in the air, but no new snow, which Sunny felt was a little bit of relief. Sunny could tell that Dawn was exhausted; he could see she was sagging in her saddle. Grot was flying with determination but it had grown dark early with fresh grey cloud cover coming in, and the threat of additional snow in the air. They were simply not going to make it to the castle before another snow came. 

They traveled for another couple of hours after first dark descended on them, but soon enough Grot called for a stop. 

Their small group landed near the remains of a rotted old oak tree. Sunny hurriedly dismounted and rushed over to help Dawn. She was shivering and pale, with dark circles under her eyes emphasizing her exhaustion. 

Grot inspected the tree disappearing into the darkness of the hollowed out tree before he returned giving them a thumbs up. 

Their small group filed into the tree, dragonflies in tow. The interior felt like a vast cave, but it was a great deal warmer inside the old dead tree than in a cave. 

Later, after Grot had carefully started a fire, Sunny went about making their little group something to eat. He crouched near the fire turning the spit where he had some wild carrots he had found outside. 

Grot sighed from where he leaned against the wall, looking around their temporary home. “I can't believe how early winter came.” 

Sunny nodded. “Yea, I'm surprised too. It's almost like a sign.” 

Dawn asked quietly, “A sign of what though?” 

Sunny glanced over at her. She was sitting near the fire her arms around herself, her wings limp behind her. He was just about to reply to her when Grot stood up straight, his eyes fixed on the entrance to the dead tree. 

“Did you hear that?” he asked in a whispered voice. 

Dawn looked up from the fire and Sunny stopped in the middle of roasting the wild carrots, his brown eyes huge as saucers. 

Grot started to move closer when they heard a laugh. 

“What have we here?”


End file.
